


Across Enemy Lines

by JewishDavidJacobs



Series: Across Enemy Lines [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, David Jacobs-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Newspapers, Pulitzer and Hearst think they’ve got us! Do they got us?, Whump, maybe? - Freeform, yes?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JewishDavidJacobs/pseuds/JewishDavidJacobs
Summary: When David Jacobs - Vice President of the Newsboy Union, student, and activist - gets an opportunity that could change his life and save his family, how can he say no? He has to take it, even if it might mean losing the people he cares about and putting himself in danger.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: Across Enemy Lines [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784512
Comments: 91
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey! Hey, we’re talking to you, David! Don’t walk away!” David moved as quickly as he could without making it look like he was running. He gripped tight to his bag and didn’t pay attention to where he was going. He didn’t care so long as it was away . Les was going to be mad if he didn’t pick him up soon but hopefully he could deal. This was the third time this week they had followed him and it looked like he wasn’t going to be lucky enough to lose them this time. Today they were persistent.

He slowly realized he had been chased to an even nicer neighborhood, one where he only knew one person and he absolutely couldn’t go to them. No. Going to Katherine’s house meant going to Pulitzer’s house and that wasn’t happening. David wasn’t even sure if he could find it, seeing as he’d only been there once when he walked her home with Jack. And they hadn’t even gone inside. Where the hell could he go? 

It must have been over fifteen minutes already. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? They had already gotten him this morning! No. He couldn’t start crying. If he started crying it would only make things worse. 

“Oh, come on, Jacobs, we just want to talk to you!”

“Yeah! Be a pal!”

Fuck, that was closer than before. Okay, now what was around that he could use to escape? He was used to wandering streets full of fruit stands and kids playing stick ball, not these upper class areas where everything was neat and clean with no carts, no kids, no alleys - wait, holy shit, was that an alley? Well, here's to hoping there’s an exit on the other side , he thought. When he reached it, David made a sharp turn and started running. He could see the street on the other side. Thank God.

He heard footsteps and yells behind him but he did his best to ignore them. At the other side, he turned left, collided with someone else walking in the opposite direction, and collapsed to the ground. 

“Watch where you’re walking. Are you all right?” David looked up. “Do I know you?” Fuck. 

“Mr. Pulitzer?” This was not good. Very not good. As in definitely bad. It had been barely two months since he had yelled at one of the most powerful men in America in his own office and here he was, splayed out on the ground after having bumped directly into him. 

“Not worth it,” he heard one of the guys whisper to the others in the alley. “He’s talking to some old man now. We’ll get him tomorrow.” Not great, but he’d take it. 

“So I do know you?” Davey scrambled up and brushed off his trousers. His hands stung from the dozens of little cuts. He smacked them together, removing the small pebbles sitting on top of them. 

Did he lie? That seemed easiest. That way, he could just move on and try to find his way back to Les. On the other hand, if their conversation ended now it was likely the boys would hear and start after him again. Plus, in the case that the union ever had to meet with him again, he probably shouldn’t tell his boss that they had never met. 

“Yes, sir. My name’s David. David Jacobs.” He just got a blank look. He sighed. “Davey.” 

“You’re Kelly’s boy!” 

“I’m the union’s vice president, yes sir.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“Sir?”

“Why are you jumping out of alleyways scaring people instead of selling the evening edition of my paper?”

“It isn’t out yet. Is it?” Had he lost track of time that quickly? 

“It will be in five minutes. Are you going to answer my question?” He most definitely was not going to answer his question, but it was probably best not to say that out loud. 

“Nothing, sir. I wasn’t doing anything. I’m sorry to have bumped into you.” He started to walk away but Pulitzer grabbed his shoulder. 

“What’s on your face?” He felt his face, unaware of having anything on it. Pulitzer sighed. 

“I’m referring to your quite prominent black eye.” Shit. Had it already become a black eye? That was fast. “What was it?” he sneered. “Infighting amongst the union?” Davey bristled at the way he said the word “union.” Like it was some sort of joke. 

“No. That’s not how we handle things.”

“You’re trying to tell me none of you get into fights?” He laughed condescendingly. 

“Well, not with each other at least. Nothing physical. Look, Mr. Pulitzer, like you said, I should really be selling, so-”

“Was Katherine there?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I know she spends time with your bunch and I want to know if you put my daughter into a position where she witnessed or participated in a fight.”

“What? No! I would never do that. We would never do that. It was just some boys at school who don’t like me very much.”

“Trying to unionize the school janitors, are we?”

“I don’t have that scheduled until next week,” he snapped. Pulitzer raised an eyebrow. Davey normally wasn’t so sarcastic with adults but he was done with his attitude and attempts to humiliate him. And he really did need to go get Les and sell. “Can I go now?”

“Is that a St. George’s pin on your jacket?” He looked down out of reflex, as if he didn’t already know. 

“Yes. I’m a student there.” 

“You’re a student there,” Pulitzer repeated. 

“Yes.”

“So you sell papers because…”

“My family needs the money. If you’d excuse me…”

“You’re working your way through school then? That’s surprising. Most families at St. George’s are wealthy.”

“No, sir, I’m not. I have a scholarship. I work because my family needs money.” 

“A scholarship?”

“Yes.” Pulitzer looked him over, apparently analyzing him. Could he just leave David alone? He needed to go now if he wanted a shot at earning any money before all of his regulars went to someone else. His mother had been having a bad week and he had planned on bringing her home a green apple as a treat; now he wouldn’t have the money to pay for what he needed, let alone that. 

“As far as I’m aware, St. George’s doesn’t award scholarships.”

“Well, I’m special. I have to go, sir.”

“What did you say your full name was again?”

“David Jacobs, sir.” 

“Father!” Katherine exited the building behind them that her father had apparently come from. “I didn’t know you were waiting for- Davey?”

“Hiya, Kath.”

“What’s going on?” She looked concerned and shot Davey a look, silently asking him if he was okay. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Father?”

“I was just talking to your friend here, darling. He’s a student at your brothers’ old school it seems.”

“Yeah, he is. Davey, what happened?” She gently grabbed his face to get a better look. He pulled away, conscious of Pulitzer’s presence. 

“Nothing.”

“Same boys as last time?”

“Yeah,” he admitted without argument. It wasn’t worth trying to trick Katherine; she always knew what the truth was anyhow. 

“Let Jack bring some of the boys to kick their asses-”

_ “Katherine! _ Mind your language!” She ignored her father. 

“I can handle it. It’s nice of them to offer but they’ll only make it worse.” 

“You can’t let them have power over you.”

“Violence is not power,” Pulitzer said, “But the absence of power.”

David nodded. “Ralph Waldo Emerson said that.” Pulitzer looked surprised. “I don’t just sell papers, Mr. Pulitzer; I read them too.” Katherine smiled at him.

“What? You’re lying.”

“Ask Katherine! It was the weirdest three minutes of my life.”

“I doubt that.”

“It’s up there.” 

“Whatever,” Jack said. “How mad is Les?” 

“Mad.” His brother was standing at the other end of the street. Distant enough to look like he was alone and get more sympathy, but close enough to let David keep an eye on him. He scowled whenever his brother caught his eye and looked away. Davey sighed. 

“What, the black eye didn’t affect him at all?”

“I told him I dropped something under my desk and hit my eye on the corner getting up.”

“Dave!”

“What do you want from me? Last time he found out I got soaked, he cried every time he looked at me for three days. The time before he saw it happen from a distance and he wouldn’t stop crying or leave my side for a week.” It was true. Luckily it was the summer otherwise it was likely Les wouldn’t have let go of him long enough to let either of them go to school. 

“Fine,” Jack huffed. “At least come up with a believable lie next time, will ya?” 

“It’s better than Race’s ‘I hit the mosquito that was on my neck really hard’ the other day.”

Jack laughed. “Think Les would cry if he saw that happening?”

“Jack, I think I’d cry if I saw that happening.”

“And you, Mr. Jacobs? Will you be prepared to present next class?” Absolutely not. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. You’re all dismissed for lunch.” David stayed in his seat, just like he usually did, until the last boy had filed out. He wasn’t in any rush to join them. After they were gone, he stood and gathered his books. 

“Mr. Jacobs?” His teacher was suddenly standing right in front of him. 

“Ma’am?”

“I’m sure you’re aware of St. George’s very strict rules about fighting. This is not the first time you’ve appeared in class looking…injured.”

“And it’s not the first time I’ve explained that not participating in fights doesn’t mean others don’t include me. Ma’am,” he tacked on. 

“Yes, well,” she said awkwardly, “That tends to happen when one hangs around such a… different sort.” All the teachers knew he was poor and knew he was a newsie so there was really no way of telling what she was referring to by saying “a different sort.” Poor? Jewish? Black? Immigrant? Who knows? Whichever it was, Davey knew it was ignorant and offensive. 

“You’re right, ma’am. My peers here are a different sort than what I’m used to. Enjoy your lunch.” He didn’t wait to be dismissed and couldn’t help but smirk as he saw the appalled look on her face out of the corner of his eye. 

David would never directly accuse anyone of harassing him to the school. He knew it wouldn’t get anywhere and that it would only make things worse for him. Still, that didn’t stop him from making comments like that. His feelings were that the people who hated him here hated him, and the people that liked him here liked him. Nothing was going to change anyone’s mind at this point. 

Very few people fell into the liking category. There were four students out of the twenty-five in his grade who had never bullied him either verbally or physically. Two of them were apathetic and two of them knew it would be social suicide to say “hey, maybe let’s not beat the living shit out of David this week, huh? Just for a change.” He didn’t blame them. One of them smiled at him sometimes if no one was around and that was nice. 

A few teachers liked him. Mr. Parker, his history teacher, was his favorite. He was the one who had brought his case to the school’s board and got him a scholarship and admittance to the school when he was eleven. Mr. Parker’s sister-in-law was Davey’s former teacher, and she told him about Davey. Mr. Parker, who had come from a poor family himself, had been looking for someone to give a chance to. The school did it because it made them look good, but Davey didn’t care as long as he could go there. 

He was miserable almost one hundred percent of the time. Some mornings Sarah had to physically drag him out of bed because he couldn’t move, too exhausted and overcome with the anxiety of going back. He knew though, that by getting a good education he was ensuring he had a chance to provide for his parents and siblings better in the future. Besides, he hated his old school too and at least now he was learning. 

So what if he had no friends at school? He had the newsies and Katherine now and that was all he needed. And Sarah has always been his best friend anyway, so what did it matter? These were the things he told himself until he entered the dining room and once again felt like a friendless loser. Even the table that he usually sat at alone now had people at it.

In the past, he had eaten lunch in Mr. Parker’s office, but this term he was teaching during Davey’s lunch period. He had a key to his office though. Mr. Parker told David that he wasn’t supposed to give it to him, but if that he really had nowhere to sit he could eat in the office by himself. Usually he made do but now he really had nowhere. If he sat down at any of those tables he knew that his peers might decide not to even wait for school to end before giving him a second black eye to match his first. Sighing, he walked down the hall and let himself into Mr. Parker’s office.

David breathed and exhaled happily. He loved this place. It smelled like old books and coffee - two of Davey’s favorite things. Mr. Parker even let Davey read any of his books as long as he wasn’t eating. Well, he guessed the bright side of not being able to pack anything more than a piece of bread with butter for the day was he now had almost a full hour to read. He’d save the bread for the end. 

About fifteen minutes later, he was reading a satirical work by Washington Irving when he heard voices. “You can wait in here, sir. This is his office. I’ll go get him for you.” That was the assistant headmaster. 

“Thank you.” Who was that? He certainly recognized the voice but he couldn’t place it with anyone at the school. The door opened. 

In stepped Joseph Pulitzer. 

“Mr. Pulitzer?” He whirled around. 

“David? What are you doing here?”

“I go to school here, sir, remember? What are you doing here?”

“That’s none of your business. I meant what are you doing in this office?” He was so tempted to say that it was also none of his business but he swallowed his pride and refrained. 

“Eating lunch.” Pulitzer looked pointedly at the book in front of him, so he reached over to the chair beside him and lifted his bag, which contained his lunch.

“Is there not a dining room anymore?” It was obviously not meant as a real question.

“There is, I’m just not welcome.”

“But you’re welcome in your instructor’s office?”

“Yes, sir.” Pulitzer sat in the place across from him and he awkwardly sat back down. Was he supposed to leave? What was the protocol for when the boss you helped to lead a strike against came to your teacher’s office where you were reading during the lunch hour? 

“What are you reading?” And now he was making conversation. This couldn’t get any weirder. 

_ “A History of New York.” _

“Ah. Washington Irving.”

“Yes.” 

“And are you planning on eating your lunch at any point?”

Awkwardly, Davey closed the book and put it aside. “Should I?”

“I’m not here to stop you from doing anything, David.” Okay, but why was he here? 

“My mother says it’s impolite to eat when others don’t have food.” 

“She’s right. In this case, however, I’m encouraging you to.” He was still skeptical. “I know how long the days can feel - I was a student here once.”

“You were?”

“Yes. So eat, or you won’t make it through. Trust me, I made that mistake more than once. It’s easy to get distracted by a good book.” So David took the bread out of his bag and ate it uncomfortably. 

“Is that all you’re having?” Pulitzer asked when he was done. 

“Yes. It’s all I have.” Luckily, Mr. Parker chose that moment to return and save them both the embarrassment of having to continue that particular conversation.

“Mr. Pulitzer, I’m sorry to keep you waiting and- David? What are you doing here with Mr. Pulitzer?” They both stood and the two adult men shook hands. 

“David was here when I arrived.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Parker,” he said sheepishly. “You said that if I really had nowhere to go I could come. And…” he gestured vaguely. Mr. Parker could put two and two together. 

“Is your eye all right?” That was why David loved Mr. Parker - he didn’t waste his time with pointless questions about what had happened; he had known David long enough to figure it out for himself. 

“Yeah, it’s old. I’ll just get going then,” he said, putting the book back on the shelf. 

“Wait.” His teacher grabbed a pad from his desk and scribbled something on it before ripping it off and handing it to him. “You can go to your next class early. Show this to anyone who gives you trouble, okay, kid?” He nodded. He was grateful for the note. If he hadn’t gotten it he would have been forced to go sit back in the dining room and that wasn’t something he could handle right then. 

“Thanks. Goodbye, Mr. Pulitzer.” He didn’t get an answer and the door closed behind him.

“David, hand me that schmatta, would you? Might as well wash it while we’re here.” It was Friday afternoon and he and Sarah were doing laundry so Ima and Sarah could deliver it to customers early Sunday morning. Ima was asleep, exhausted from a long day, and they were being as quiet as possible so as to keep from waking her. Aba wasn’t home yet and they sent Les outside to play with some of the other kids in the building. He handed his sister the material often wore in her hair. 

Friday and Saturday were the days they didn’t work. Shabbat was sunset to sunset so Fridays after school they came home to prepare and do anything else that might need doing. Nobody visited them on Fridays; the newsies knew they wouldn’t be able to spend time with them. That’s why it was weird when there was a knock on the door. 

“I’ll get it,” he said, standing up. “It’s probably just Ms. Moskowitz wanting to borrow some ingredient or another.”

“Or it’s  _ Ruth  _ Moskowitz wanting to borrow  _ you,” _ she teased. David ignored her. He was surprised to find Katherine on the other side of the door. “Katherine? What are you doing here?” He was suddenly very self conscious about his building. And how did she know where he lived? He peeked out into the hallway. Ah. That was how. 

“Hiya, Dave.” Jack was leaning on the wall.

Sarah came up behind him and shoved them all outside. “Sorry, our mother is sleeping,” she explained. “Not that it’s not nice to see you both but what are you doing here?”

“My father sent me.”

“What? Why?”

“He wants to see you, Davey.”

Sarah looked at him. “Co zrobiłeś?” she asked. 

“I didn’t do anything! Don’t be so accusatory.”

“Yeah, Sarah,” Jack put in, “maybe he just wants to tell Davey he’s decided to start giving the newsies papes for free! You can’t know that he did something wrong.” Davey made a rude gesture in his general direction. 

“Look, I don’t know why,” Katherine said, “but ever since you bumped into him the other day he’s been asking me lots of questions about you.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?”

“Random questions. Like if you speak languages other than English or if you have older siblings.”

“Did you tell him he does? Because he does.”

“You’re less than ten minutes older than me!”

“I’m still older.”

“I said you had a twin and a little brother.”

“And what languages?” Jack asked. “I hope you made some up.”

“Not for Davey, but I mentioned that you speak Japanese so if he ever asks, go with it.”

“Thatta girl.” 

“Can we please get back to the point at hand? Why does he want me, where, and when?”

“I don’t know, his office, tomorrow morning.” 

“Tell him I can’t.” 

“I figured but I thought I’d let you know,” she said. 

“Thanks, Kath. I appreciate it.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” Sarah asked. “Tell him you’ll be in his office Sunday morning.”

“What? Why?”

“He clearly wants to see you for something he thinks is important if he’s been asking Katherine questions and he showed up at your school. You have the upper hand, so play it. You pick the time.”

“We can’t know that he showed up at school because of me.” 

“Don’t be obtuse; of course he did.”

“But what if he wants to talk to me about something bad?” he asked anxiously. 

“Then you’ll find out at some point anyway. If you take control that’s what’s best. That’s just what I think though.”

“She’s right. My father likes these mind games. I don’t think he actually expected you to come on a Saturday.”

They were all staring, waiting for him to deliborate. He sighed. “Okay. Tell him I’ll be there Sunday at one, all right?”

“Great,” she said with a smile. “He usually doesn’t work Sundays so he won’t be happy and that makes me happy.”

“And the three of us will definitely not be waiting outside the door listening,” Jack added. He rolled his eyes. 

“Well, I actually won’t be but let me know, yeah?”

“As soon as I get home. Katherine, do you think it will take long? I don’t want to miss selling time.”

“Davey, I have no idea! For the last time, I don’t know what he wants.”

He deflated. “Right, sorry.” She gave him a soft smile and pulled him into a hug. 

“That’s all right. I wish I knew so you wouldn’t spend the next two days stressing about it.”

“I won’t.”

“He will,” Sarah took his arm. “Come on, David, we have to finish the laundry. Sorry, guys, we’d invite you in but we only have about an hour until sunset.”

“No worries,” Jack said, pushing himself off the wall. “See you Sunday?”

“Of course.”

“And I’ll walk him home so I can see you, Sarah.”

She laughed. “Can’t get enough of me, Kelly?”

“Never. Why do you think I tolerate your brother?” 

“I thought it was for the challah Ima gives you.”

“That too.”

“Stop doing up all those buttons; you look like you’re going to church,” Jack said.

David rolled his eyes. “I’m not going into our boss’s office with my chest showing.” 

“Why not? It’s part of your job, ain’t it? The ladies love it, Jacobs.” They were walking towards The World building, a part of town that they generally didn’t sell near. Jack had insisted that he at least walk Davey there. 

“Yeah right,” he scoffed. “They love flirting with you. They give me the time of day when there’s more than one of them and you’re occupied.”

“That’s not true. Either way, we sell the papes, don’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“Besides, he’s only our boss in a roundabout way. We could just as easily go sell for the  _ Sun  _ or the  _ Trib  _ full time.”

“Sure, if we wanted to cause a war with some of the other newsies. Look, I’m not wearing a tie or anything, so just be happy.”

“Please,” he guffawed. “You’d wear a tie if you had one.”

“Well somebody ruined it, didn’t he?”

“It’s not my fault! Ties are meant to be pulled off.”

“Not with that much force. Thanks, by the way, for making me skirt around that conversation with my mother.”

Jack grinned impishly. “You’re welcome.” The pair reached the main entrance to the World building and paused. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with ya?”

David nodded. “I think so. I don’t want him to think of me as…”

“As what? As ‘Kelly’s boy’?” He smirked.

“How do you know he said that?” Davey groaned. 

“Katherine told me.”

“She wasn’t even there when that happened!”

“Well, apparently that’s how he’s been referring to you.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. “Have fun with that.” 

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“I wish I hated you.”

“If I had a penny for every time I heard that, I’d be as rich as Pulitzer. Now go so you can get back here and start selling again,” he pushed him forward gently. “I’ll be here.”

“Not if it takes longer than we usually break for lunch. I’m serious, Jack, it’s stupid for both of us to lose selling time. If that happens I promise I’ll come to the lodging house before I go home, okay? I’ll still tell you what happened.”

“Fine,” Jack gave in but he didn’t look happy about it. Davey thought it was rather sweet that Jack didn’t want to leave him alone, even if it was only because he was curious. He said goodbye and entered the building. 

He had only been inside once before and at the time, he had been so overwhelmed that it was mostly a blur until they got into Pulitzer’s office. Now, he took a moment to look around the lobby in awe. He couldn’t remember ever being in a building as fancy as this one. He stared at the ceiling and the paintings on it. 

“Can I help you?” He spun around and saw an impatient looking woman tapping her foot. 

“Oh, um…”

“This isn’t public property. Are you here for a reason?” She had an air of conceit around her and she clearly thought he was there to cause trouble. 

“I have a meeting.” 

“Oh!” A look of comprehension and false cheeriness crossed her face. “You’re here for the interview? Accounting is on the seventh floor.” Davey clenched his jaw. Of course. Of course that’s what she said. Thank god he hadn’t let Jack come with him because he wouldn’t have been able to hold his tongue. 

“I’m not, actually. I’m terrible at math.” He wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem at all embarrassed or ashamed so he moved on. “I’m here to meet with Mr. Pulitzer.”

“Do you have an appointment? You can’t just walk in.” 

“I was invited. What floor is he on?” She squinted at him skeptically. 

“Nineteen. Take that elevator.” She pointed without taking her eyes off of him. It was as if she thought if she looked away he would somehow destroy the entire building by tripping or doing something else clumsy and childlike. 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The elevator operator was staring at him. It wasn’t like the way the rude woman had stared at him - it was almost like he was in awe. David tried to avoid eye contact as he flushed. 

“I know you,” the man finally said.

David looked at him. “You do?”

“I do,” he replied, nodding. 

“I’m sorry but I don’t recognize you, sir.”

The man smiled. “I don’t doubt it. You were a little distracted when we last met.”

“I’m sorry, did we-”

“You’re one of the newsboys from the strike this summer. Davey, right?”

“Oh.” David was surprised to hear anyone who worked there recognized him. Jack, sure. He’d stormed his way through the building several times over the course of the strike and made himself known. Even Spot would make sense. David imagined it was a unique experience for most of the people who worked there to see someone so small in stature but so imposing and intimidating. Appearances could be deceiving. “Um, yeah. Yeah I was part of it. How did you know my name?”

“I had quite a few rides up to the nineteenth floor with your friend, Jack. He’s always got something to say.” David laughed. “I gotta tell you, we were very impressed by you kids. Nobody here has a union, but in a month, hundreds of kids from all around the city managed to do it. It’s nice to meet the guy who made that happen.”

“What? No. I mean, thank you, but I barely did anything. It was almost entirely Jack Kelly and Katherine Pulitzer leading us.” 

“I read those articles, kid. And the follow up pieces they did.”

“I didn’t do any interviews.”

“Your friends did. Think they didn’t mention you?”

“I know they did but there were no details, just that I was there and that I’m vice president.” 

“Do you actually think there isn’t gossip here? Hell, it ain’t just here. Someone has an affair at The Sun and we hear about it. Nah, he was the face and you were the brains.”

“ Katherine was the brains. She’s the smartest person I know.” The man chuckled. 

“I’ve worked here for twelve years. Trust me, I know she’s got brains. Always fighting her father on this or that. But no, she was the voice, he was the face, and you were the brains.”

“Well, we all did a bit of everything. The children’s crusade wasn’t my idea, you know. That was all Katherine with some help from Jack.”

“Give yourself some credit, kid. You’re a legend. Maybe not outside this building, but in it, you are.” He blushed. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who would recognize me and that’s only because you brought us up when we were here.” 

“Maybe. Still, you kids inspired a lot of people.”

“You could demand a union of your own, you know. It’s only fair.” The bell dinged as they reached their destination. The doors opened and David stepped out. 

“Come on, kid. You and I both know fair ain’t got nothing to do with anything.” The doors closed behind him and he stood looking at them for a minute. The fake gold gilding shined in the afternoon light that was streaming in through the windows. It bothered him for a reason that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“Mr. Jacobs?” He startled and turned. At the desk beside the office door sat Pulitzer’s secretary. He recognized her as the kind woman who stood outside the door with him just a few months earlier while Jack and Pulitzer talked. He remembered her leaning over and whispering to him, “I can’t wait until people your age are in charge.” He wished he had asked her name. 

“Mr. Jacobs?” she asked again. 

“Oh, um, yeah. Hi.”

She smiled. “Hi. You can go in if you’d like; he’s waiting for you.” 

“Thanks. Do you mind if I leave this out here?” He held up his bag full of papers. He was suddenly self conscious about it and wished he had just left it with Jack. 

“Sure. Just leave it on one of those chairs.” David nodded and did as he was told. He took a deep breath and knocked three times on the brass door. The cool metal on his knuckles felt nice after hours in the sun. Fuck, was he covered in sweat? He couldn’t even tell at this point, used to it as he was. 

“Come in, David.” Oh well. Too late now. He slowly creaked the door open and looked inside. “Close the door behind you,” Pulitzer told him without looking up from what he was writing. “Take a seat.” He continued to write for several moments, and David couldn’t help but think it was one of his mind games Katherine talked about. Recognizing it for what it was, he remained calm and collected, occupying his nervous brain by mentally writing the paper he had due in his literature class later that week. Finally, as David was writing his second body paragraph, Pulitzer put his pen down and looked up. “I’m guessing you don’t know why you’re here.”

“No, sir. But if you’re looking to meet with the union, you should really take it up with its president and not me.” 

“I’m not.”

“Okay.” Pulitzer folded his hands and didn’t respond. “So why am I here?” 

“‘When a society does not allow an entire sex any education, opportunities in its workforce, or a purpose outside of raising children and then asks why it has not contributed to society in the same way, who is it at fault? A husband is not his wife’s representative when he votes, because men are taught that acting in their self-interest is the only way to survive.’ You wrote that. That last part was a reference to me, I suspect.” David was shocked. Joseph Pulitzer, business tycoon and publisher extraordinaire, was quoting his ethics paper - and from memory, no less. 

“Mr. Pulitzer, I-”

“You have a sister.”

“Yes, but-”

“A twin, my daughter tells me.”

“Yes.” 

“And you feel she should be able to vote?” David looked at him, confused. Was this why he called him here? To debate suffrage?

“I do. My sister is the smartest person I know. In fact, the only other person who comes close is your daughter, but that’s not why I think women should have the vote.”

“Then why?”

“It shouldn’t just be about the people in my life. It’s not because she’s my sister. It’s because she’s a person.”

Pulitzer crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He gestured for David to continue speaking. “So make the argument.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Convince me. What does simply being a person have to do with suffrage?”

“Everything. If we let people vote based on whether or not we thought they were qualified to make decisions we wouldn’t have nearly as many voters. Are there women who are ill informed? Sure. Are they men who are ill informed? Yes, obviously. Still we say that women can’t vote because they don’t have the brainpower to make those types of decisions. All wars in history have been started by men. All economic collapses in history have been caused by men. Every mistake we’ve made as a society has been caused by men but no one says men shouldn’t be allowed to vote because that would be insane. Why should we blame all men for people that mess up and happen to be men?

“It isn’t about intelligence because if it was women would already have the vote. Plenty of people are alive right now because of Clara Barton. Elizabeth Frey made our prison system better. Harriet Beecher Stowe, Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen. All three of them have shaped the face of literature in recent years and Stowe fanned the flames of abolition. It’s evident from her writing’s the Abigail Adams was just as intelligent, if not more intelligent, than her husband. The list is endless.

“Then there’s men. You know what we’ve done? A century ago, an Austrian army got confused and fought itself. Napoleon decided to invade Russia. Somebody saw a giant wooden horse and thought it was a good idea to bring inside the city!” He could have sworn Pulitzer chuckled. “Somebody didn’t lock the gate at Constantinople - I mean they would have gotten in soon enough anyway but that’s besides the point. George McClellan  _ existed. _ And those are just mistakes - I didn’t mention any of the evil things.

“I don’t think women are smarter than men, that isn’t my point. There are women throughout history who have done plenty of stupid things. My point is men aren’t any less stupid. It’s about the person not the sex.” David instantly regretted his long, rambling explanation but he hadn’t been able to help it. He always rambled when he was nervous, excited, stressed, or passionate. Mr. Pulitzer leaned forward and scrutinized him. 

“And that’s the reason women should have the vote?” 

“No, sir. It’s certainly a reason but it’s not the reason.” 

“Then what is the reason?” 

“Because it’s right. Sometimes things are just right because they’re right,” David said and the other man smiled. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I can tell we’re not always going to agree, but you want what’s right and so do I.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I know what you all think of me. You think that I’m cruel and old fashioned and unsympathetic. What you don’t realize is that I’m a strong proponent of labor rights and fighting corruption. I use my-”

“Due respect, Mr. Pulitzer, but we do read the papers we sell. We’ve seen your opinion pieces and your writers’ ones too.”

“So you know what I believe.”

“We know what you believe when it doesn’t directly affect you,” he said earnestly. Pulitzer’s expression was unreadable so David pushed on. “I loved reading what you had to say about the trolly strike. I thought it was persuasive and strong and I agreed with all of it, but, sir…my family went without food because of you. So did my friends. I can’t imagine ever feeling worse than I did when I couldn’t feed my little brother. My friend went to jail and you used it as leverage. We don’t think you’re old fashioned - we think you’re a hypocrite.” 

“I see.” Pulitzer got up and paced around. Davey wasn’t sure what he was meant to do so he stayed seated, twisting around in his chair to track the man. He couldn’t be fired, could he? He guessed they could start refusing to sell to him. Fuck, his parents were going to kill him. 

“Sir-”

“Mr. Parker tells me you weren’t in school this year until October.”

“Sir?”

“Why?” What the hell was happening? What was with all these bizarre non sequiturs and random questions?

“My siblings and I had to work full time until my father could find a new job.”

“What happened to his last one?”

“He injured his leg on the job and he didn’t have a union so…” David shrugged. It wasn’t exactly an original tale. 

“And he’s better now?” Pulitzer sat back down. 

“Um…he’s not in too much pain anymore unless he aggravates it, but he still can’t walk very well.”

“So where is he working?”

“He’s in a different factory.”

“Doing what?” 

“Sometimes he’s a mill attendant sometimes he loads the trucks.”

“With an injured leg? And you let him return to work?” That really irked Davey. He had no right to judge or criticize what David’s family did to survive when he himself had more money than one person could ever spend. 

“I’m not in charge of my father,  _ sir. _ He does what he has to do and so do I. Speaking of which, I have to get back to selling.” He stood up and tried to quickly extract himself but before he was even out of his seat he was stopped. 

“David. Don’t you want to know why I called you here?”

“To test and lecture me?”

Pulitzer chuckled. “No. I want to offer you a job.” 

“What?” Davey sputtered. “Doing what? I have a job.”

“I think you’ll like this one better,” he replied. “I’m looking for an assistant.” 

“Don’t you have one?” David gestured to the outer office. 

“Hannah’s my secretary.” David hadn’t thought there was a difference. “I’m looking for someone young who isn’t afraid to speak truth to power.”

David paused. This was the strangest conversation he’d ever had and he wasn’t quite sure he was processing it. Never mind, there was no time. He could go into shock later. “I’m still confused. What would I be doing?”

“What do you want to do after you graduate, David?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“That seems odd. Bright, young man like you.”

David shrugged. “I sorta have to take it one day at a time. I guess I’ll see what’s available.”

“Would you like to learn about journalism? The newspaper industry has a lot of different options.”

“I’m not…what’s happening right now?” Pulitzer chuckled. “I’m serious. Two months ago I was in here yelling at you, last week I literally bumped into you on the street, and now you’re offering me a job? Why?”

“Because I think you could be good at this.”

“How did you have my paper?” The thought suddenly occurred to him. 

“I got it from your teacher.”

“That’s why you were at St. George’s? They’re not supposed to give out student’s information.”

“I’ve already sent two children through there and I’ll send another; I get what I want. I wanted to see if you wrote like you spoke. It turns out you do.”

“How’s that?”

“With confidence and intelligence.”

“That’s inaccurate. Seriously, ask anyone! I’m never confident in what I’m saying. Half the time I start talking without knowing what I’m talking about.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of offering you the job?”

“I don’t even know what the job is .” 

“You’d be my assistant. I do need one, I wasn’t just saying that. Some of it would be menial work but I’d teach you about editing and publishing. You should see how a newspaper is made, David.”

“Why?”

“Because one day you’ll either be running one or fighting one. Mark my words. If thirty years from now you’re not running a newspaper or running for office, hell will have frozen over.”

“I don’t believe in hell,” he said stupidly. 

“Well then you only have thirty years. What do you say?” 

“I…I have school.”

“You can start on a part time basis.”

“What about-”

“You’ll make a lot more money for your family doing this than selling newspapers,” he told David, one step ahead. 

“I’ll have to talk to my parents.”

“Let me know tomorrow afternoon. You’ll start then.”

“I haven’t accepted the-”

“You will. I trust you can see yourself out?” He nodded, feeling numb. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, unaware of his surroundings.

“So? How’d it go?” Hannah was smiling at him. “Am I going to be seeing more of you around here?”

“Yeah…yeah, I think so.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey tells his friends and family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to be honest, about half of this chapter was not proofread before posting so I apologize.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” 

“Why would you do that?”

“You can’t!” Everybody was yelling and it was getting to Davey. They were all angry - at him or at the situation, he couldn’t tell - and neither he nor anyone else could get a word out without someone yelling over them. It had been that way for close to two minutes and it was getting to be too much. Davey didn’t do well with loud noise at the best of time, so he certainly didn’t now. 

After he had left The World, Davey found Jack still waiting outside and he numbly explained the whole situation. Together, they went to get Katherine and ask her what she thought. Sarah’s work on Sundays was with their mother at home, so they ran and got her too, explaining to Ima that it was very important, and that they promised to work together to finish her work later.

As a group, they decided the best course of action was to talk to their friends first. Davey wanted to know what they thought before telling his parents. Luckily, Les had gone with Crutchie for the day and they would be able to tell him before his parents as well. 

It hadn’t gone over well. Davey wasn’t under any sort of illusion that they would be ecstatic, but it would have been nice to have at least a little support. Jack himself had been quiet and stormy for most of the last few hours, but he had congratulated Davey, and was supporting him to the other boys. 

“Hey!” Jack screamed. “Hey!” Everyone was still yelling, and Crutchie sent Davey an apologetic look. Eventually, Sarah had enough and screamed for them all to be quiet, which they did. 

“Oh, so you listen to her?” Jack asked. “Whatever. Look, we’re gonna talk about this civil like or we ain’t gonna talk about it all, got that?” There were grumbles of affirmation. “Good. Since no one can control themselves we’ll do it like a goddamn classroom. Raise your hand if you’ve got something to say.” Immediately, almost everyone’s hands shot up. Sarah sighed out of exasperation and banged her head on Katherine’s shoulder. Davey couldn’t blame her. “Finch, what do you gotta say?”

“How could you even consider it, Mouth? He’s who we striked against! He got Crutchie thrown in the Refuge!” Several people nodded. 

“I know. I haven’t said yes, Finch. I’m asking you guys because I care about your opinions.”

“You shouldn’t be considering it.” Davey looked away. Jack called on JoJo. 

“Why did he offer you a job, anyway?”

“I…I really don’t know.”

“Because he knows what we all know,” Katherine said. “That Davey has a brilliant mind and an outstanding work ethic. Anyone would be crazy not to hire him.” 

He smiled. “Thanks, Kath.” He could always count on her to make him feel better about himself. 

“My turn,” announced Jamie without waiting for Jack to acknowledge him. Jamie had never particularly liked Davey, that much was obvious to everyone. He had been one of the boys who scabbed at the beginning of the strike, but Jack talked him around. He never liked any of Davey’s ideas during the strike though. Jamie sometimes made rude comments under his breath and Davey tried not to let them hurt. He didn’t really warm up to Les either but he was never overtly rude to him so Davey wouldn’t say anything until he was. “What’s wrong with being a newsie?”

“Yeah!” Davey heard someone agree. 

“You’re what, too good for it now?”

“That’s not what I-” 

“It’s worse than that, Jamie,” someone yelled. “He’s switching sides. He’s a traitor.” That hurt. He had fought so hard for all of them during the summer and now they thought that he was a traitor. That he thought he was too good to be a newsie. He felt Sarah briefly rub circles into his back. 

“That ain’t fair,” Jack snapped. “Dave’s half the reason you all have beds to sleep in at night, you hear? The strike wouldn’t have worked without him so I don’t want to hear nothing like that coming out of anyone’s mouth again.”

“Fellas…” Davey tried, “I’m not switching sides and I don’t for a second think I’m too good to sell papes. Being one of you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If I do this it’s because it’s what makes sense for me and my family, okay? It doesn’t have anything to do with anything else. 

“Except you’re not one of us, are you?” Everybody gave their full attention to Jamie, who was sitting on the ground criss cross applesauce, just like the younger kids did when Davey read them stories. “You’ve never  _ been  _ one of us. You try to act it and you sell papes but at night you go home to your family and in the morning you go to your fancy school. You don’t gotta worry about where your next meal is coming from or if your shoes are gonna make it through winter. You wanted to strike for the principle of the thing - we wanted to strike to survive.

“You should take that job.” People around him started to protest but he talked over them. “I’m serious! He was going to ditch once he was done with school anyway, this is just making it happen faster. Soon he’ll be in some office, forgetting about us.”

“That’s not true,” Davey assured. “I’m not going to forget about you guys and I’m not going to ditch! I promise!”

“You will though. You’ll get more money and more power and slowly but surely you’ll forget about the people who care about you. It’s what you people do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack growled. 

“Nothing,” Jamie replied, not breaking eye contact with Davey. “It don’t mean anything at all. Excuse me.” He stood up and left. The room was silent except for the sound of the door latching and some confused murmurs.

Davey was trying his best not to make eye contact with anyone. He was frozen in his spot. He knew some of the younger kids didn’t understand so that was good. Les did though. God, did it hurt that Les had to understand when he wasn’t yet ten. 

“Well, I think it’s great,” Crutchie said, pretending to be cheerful.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t like the guy or nothing but it’s great that he asked you, Davey. You’re a great guy and you deserve it. I’m not surprised.” 

“Wow, um…thanks, Crutchie. That means a lot.” He turned when he heard the door slam and hit the wall outside. Race was leaving. He, Jack, Sarah, and Katherine ran after him. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jack yelled. 

“I’m going after the bastard!”

“Don’t, Race,” Sarah grabbed his arm. “He isn’t worth it.”

“Fine!” he yelled. “I’ll wait until he gets back and pummel him then!” 

“Race!” He grabbed his other arm and they slowly tried to lead him back inside. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“He doesn’t get to say shit like that.”

“Calm down! I get much worse at school every day, okay? It’s really fine.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better!” Katherine made sure the door was latched behind them. No one had moved an inch - not even Les. 

“Sit down, would ya?” Jack phrased it like a question, but it definitely wasn’t, so Race collapsed on one of the bunks, fuming. “All right, if anybody else has got something to say, say it! After this there isn’t gonna be no more talking about it unless Davey says so.” 

“Davey?” Someone asked, not unkindly. 

“Yeah, Romeo?”

“Is it really gonna help you if you take the job? Like, with your family and your future?” Davey looked around at all the earnestly curious faces around the room. Maybe before had just been their initial, shocked reaction. Maybe they  _ would _ support him. 

“Yes. I think it might. And if it helps them, then I have to try, right? You guys can understand that, can’t you?” He knew he sounded desperate but he didn’t care. All he wanted was for his friends to not hate him. Was that too much to ask? 

“Yeah,” Finch said. “You’re right. Sorry, Mouth.”

“Sorry, Davey.”

“My bad.”

“Sorry, Dave.” Most of the room apologized and he felt instantly a thousand times better. A few of the boys still looked unhappy but it was better than nothing. 

“Thanks, fellas. And just so you know, I’m not very happy about the idea of working for the bastard either - no offense, Katherine.”

“None taken. He is, in fact, a bastard.”

“I’ll always be on your side. Newsies forever, remember?”

“Great,” said Sarah, hopping down off the table she was sitting on. “Now all we have to do is tell our parents. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

  
  
  


“I can’t recall a time when you’ve been more wrong about something.”

“Shut up.” Sarah and Davey were sitting on their roof with Jack and Katherine, having just had one of the biggest fights they’d ever had with their parents. Les was inside, probably crying. 

“I don’t understand! Why aren’t they happy for you?” Katherine asked.

“They are, it’s just…complicated. Hopefully they’ll stop being weird about it soon.”

“You know what else is weird? Your eyes aren’t like…a color, you know?” Jack had his head in Davey’s lap and was drunker than he had ever seen him. Katherine and Jack had stopped to pick up beer to celebrate, thinking that Davey's parents would be happy. They decided to have their little party anyway. 

“Well, if they’re confusing you that much stop looking at them.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked, genuinely. Katherine snorted and took another sip. 

“His eyes are a color, Jack,” Sarah said. “What color are they? Come on, I know you can do it.”

“They’re…pretty.” 

“That’s the color they are? Pretty color?”

“Yeah. Stop talking.” Katherine laughed out loud and Sarah flicked Jack on the nose. “Hey! Leave me alone, I’m busy!”

“What are you busy with, Jacky?”

“I’m drawing you,” he said as if it was obvious. 

“You don’t have any paper.”

“In my mind, dummy.”

“Oh, yes. That makes sense.” He looked at the girls. “How is he so much drunker than the rest of us?” 

“He started drinking on the way here. He’s about three beers ahead of you.”

“Three? No, that’s it,” he took the bottle from Jack’s hand, “You’re done.” 

“Okay. Do I have to move?”

“No, you just can’t have any more beer.”

“That’s fine.”

“I wanted to talk to you before tomorrow but now I feel like you won’t remember anything.”

“Probably not.”

“Okay. Tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck,” Katherine, who was now lying on the ground, said. She covered her face with her hand. “I have to work tomorrow. This was such a bad idea.”

“Just tell your boss you were up late working on a piece and that’s why you look like shit.”

“Thanks, Sarah. That’s very kind.”

“Whatever. David, what are the chances Ima or Aba is gonna come up here and see us drinking?”

“Slim to none. The chances that they’ll send Les and he’ll tell them? Much higher.”

“Shit.”

“Just give him some,” Jack suggested. “Then he won’t snitch.”

“Remind me to never let you near my brother again.”

“I thought we were talking about your dad?”

“Then why would he sn- you know what, never mind. How the hell are we going to get him home?” he asked the girls. Sarah groaned. 

“Let’s just leave him here.”

“Yeah, that’ll go over well with Aba. ‘Hey, you know how you’re mad at me because you think I’m betraying my morals and decency? Well to celebrate that we got drunk on the roof with our friends and one of them is sleeping it off. Where did we get the drinks? The daughter of the guy you don’t want me to work for.’”

“Aba doesn’t care  _ that  _ much. He definitely knew we were hungover the day after Purim and he didn’t rat us out to Ima.”

“That’s different. He probably thought it was okay because it was for Purim and not just his teenage son and daughter getting wasted.” 

“What’s Purim?” Jack asked. “I want in.” 

“We’ll throw a Purim party at the lodging house next year,” Sarah promised. “You boys just get the booze.”

“I think it’s technically supposed to be manischewitz.” 

“Whatever. We’ll drink that too.”

“I’m in,” said Katherine. “I’ll raid my dad’s wine cellar.”

“I feel like if I’m going to be his assistant I shouldn’t let that happen.”

“Relax, loser. You’re off the clock.” They drank and laughed for a while longer, probably much too loudly. Davey didn’t care though. He had no idea what his new job meant for his free time, little though it was, and he wanted to make the most of it with the three people he was closest to. 

“Seriously, how are we getting Jack home?” he eventually asked. 

“I can walk by myself.”

“No,” they all said at once. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Spell my brother’s middle name.”

“What? Why?” Davey looked at her. She shrugged. 

“It’s a hard name to spell.”

“It’s not.”

“When you’re drunk it is.” 

“No. Jack, you’re not walking home by yourself. Get up, I’ll walk you.” 

“David, Ima and Aba will kill you if they find out.”

“They’re not gonna find out. They’re dead asleep by now and so is Les. 

“David…”

“Hey, all three of their children snuck out in the middle of the night during the summer to go running around organizing a citywide strike. They’re not gonna notice me missing.”

“Fine. But I’m not covering for you if they do.” He just looked at her. “Fine, all right, I will. Now go, so you can get back.” With much struggle, he got Jack to his feet and towards the fire escape.

“Are you coming, Katherine? It’s not a good idea to walk around this neighborhood by yourself at night.” 

“Sure, but what about you? You’re coming back alone.”

“Yeah, but I’ve lived here the past nine years. I can navigate it. Come on.” He gave her a hand up. 

“Bye, Sarah.”

“Bye, Katherine. See you soon?”

“Definitely.” 

  
  


After dropping Katherine off, Jack seemed to have sobered up at least a little and could walk by himself, if a little unsteadily. 

“So. How do you feel about tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Apprehensive? Maybe? I’m not sure what I feel. Definitely anxious but I don’t know if that’s nervousness or excitement or something else entirely.” 

“Makes sense. I’m excited for you. I’ll have to find a new selling partner though. How will I ever find someone as lousy as you?” Jack tried to joke but Davey could hear the hurt in his voice. 

“Jack,” he said, trying to stop but Jack kept up their lazy pace down the sidewalk. “That’s what I was going to talk to you about before. Because if you don’t want me taking the job I won’t.”

“That ain’t true. Most of them boys didn’t want you to and you’re doing it.”

“Your opinion matters to me more than anything else,” he replied earnestly. “I won't do it if you don’t want. Me and you, yeah?” Jack paused, just for a moment, and seemed to search his face for something. Then he cleared his throat. 

“No, Dave. Take the job. I’ll miss you but…you were right about what you said. You have to try.”

“And I’ll still sell on Sundays. I don’t know how much I’ll be making so I might have to anyway.”

“Yeah.” 

“It’ll be fine. I’ll still see you! I’m not going to stop hanging out with you just because I’m not selling all the time. I didn’t do that when I went back to school.”

“Yeah.” Jack clearly didn’t want to talk about it anymore so he moved on. 

“Hey, do you think I’ll get to see any legendary Katherine v Joe fights?” Jack laughed. 

“If you do, I need you to write down everything they says so I can have it forever.”

“Deal, but I’m not spit shaking on it.” He successfully got Jack to the lodging house and handed him off to a very annoyed and sleep deprived Finch. 

The way home from there usually took about thirty minutes, but he figured the best way to stay on his sister’s food side was to get there as quickly as possible. He knew of a shortcut even though he knew Sarah would kill him if she ever found out. He could take care of himself - he was a newsie, for God’s sake. 

About halfway home, he began to get uneasy. It was the sort of chill somebody gets when they feel like someone was watching them, but whenever they looked the person was gone. Logically, Davey knew he wasn’t being followed. What reason would anyone have to follow him? He heard footsteps. Then voices.

“Davey!”

He started running, choosing not to acknowledge the possibility that acting natural might have kept him safer. This way, at least, he had a chance of making it a little closer to home before he was caught. It would be easier to drag himself to bed after a beating if there were fewer blocks between him and his building. 

“Davey!” He ran faster. “Davey slow down!”

“Slow the fuck down, Mouth!” He stopped. He should have realized before. He told himself he was an idiot. Nobody called him Davey let alone Mouth other than the newsies. “Thank god,” the voice said as it got closer and came to a stop. “I thought we’d never catch you. You’re faster than you look, did you know that?” Davey turned and smiled. 

“I get lots of help practicing from my classmates. Hey, Mush. Hey, Albert. What are you doing out so late?”

“What are  _ you  _ doing out so late?” Mush asked. 

“Yeah, don’t you got class in the morning?”

“Don’t  _ you  _ got papes to sell in the morning?” Albert shrugged. “I was just walking Jack home. He’s a little…”

“Drunk?” Mush suggested.

“What, how do you know?” 

“Because  _ you’re  _ drunk,” Albert scoffed. “Sorta obvious.”

“What? I’m not drunk.”

“Well you sure look it. How drunk was he that he up and lets you walk home by yourself like this?”

“We’ll walk you the rest of the way, Mouth, doncha worry.” 

“I can walk myself. Thanks though.” They exchanged a look. 

“Okay, well we’re out for a stroll anyway so we’ll come with.” Davey rolled his eyes. How gullible did they think he was?

“Seriously? A stroll?” 

“Shut up and walk.” Albert turned him around and started making them walk. Davey was sure they were talking to him as they walked but he was having trouble making out the words. Maybe he really  _ was  _ drunk. Then again, maybe it was just exhaustion. It had been a long day. A  _ very _ long day. 

Inexplicably, he thought of the lullabies his father used to sing to him and Sarah to keep out the noise around them. Sometimes the noise was the crash of the waves and the yelling of sailors, sometimes it was the screaming of babies in their tenement building, and sometimes it was their own crying. What had brought that up for him? 

“Mouth? Mouth!” Albert’s voice finally came through. 

“Hmm? Sorry, what did you say?”

“I was asking what you said.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, you did but it wasn’t English.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised to hear he had been reciting the lyrics out loud without noticing. “Sorry, that was just-”

“Don’t be sorry. Just wanted to make sure you was okay.” He nodded. 

“So…are you excited for tomorrow?” Mush asked. “Pretty big day.” Davey shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Should I be? I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be feeling right now. My parents aren’t thrilled with the idea, so, that’s…not great.”

“There isn’t one way you’re supposed to feel. You feel what you feel.”

“Still. I’m not blind to the privileges I have and I don’t want to be ungrateful.” Albert scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Davey,” Mush said, smiling kindly, “When we tease you about going to school and stuff it really  _ is  _ just teasing. We know you deal with your own stuff.”

“Yeah,” Albert agreed. “None of us is stupid enough to think you’ve got money or some shit and we all see the bruises you get from those asses. No one thinks you're ungrateful.”

  
  


“If anyone can prove to me that he paid attention yesterday by answering that question, you can leave five minutes early,” Mr. Parker offered. “Nobody? Anyone? Mr. Jacobs?” 

David looked up from where he was writing in his notebook but definitely not paying attention. Mr. Parker gave him a look that said  _ “really? Even you?” _

“That would be the Marquis de Lafayette, sir.”

“Very good. Enjoy your day, Mr. Jacobs. The rest of you, let’s do some more notes.” 

Once David got outside the property he started sprinting. Mr. Parker knew he was starting today and he had probably done that on purpose. David was grateful. 

He was supposed to be there in fifteen minutes. The walk from his school to The World building was about ten minutes, but David wanted to be early just in case. He ran through the streets and dodged carts and vendors and dogs. Being a newsie had undoubtedly helped with his coordination, athleticism, and sense of direction. Plus, he knew back ways to get to places. 

Once he arrived, with seven minutes until he had to be there, he got right into the elevator. 

“Hello again.” 

David looked up from where he was taking his school pin off of his blazer. 

“Oh. Hi. I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t catch your name last time.”

“It’s Walter. What are you doing back here so soon?”

“Mr. Pulitzer hired me part time to be his assistant.”

Walter raised an eyebrow.

“He did?”

“That was my reaction. I’m honestly not sure what I’m getting myself into.”

“Well, we’re here, so get yourself into it. Good luck, kid.”

The doors opened and David stepped into the outer office. He wasn’t any less impressed by the design of it than he was the last time. Hannah looked at him and smiled. 

“David! It’s good to see you back here.”

“Um, thanks. I…I’m honestly not sure what I’m meant to do.” 

“I’ll tell him you’re here,” she said and got up to go knock on the door. “Mr. Pulitzer? David Jacobs is here.” She turned back to David. “You can go in.” 

He swallowed nervously, straightened his school tie and left his bag on a chair before entering.

“Mr. Pulitzer?”

“Ah, David, come in. So I take it you’ve decided to take me up on my offer?” 

David nodded hesitantly. 

“I think so, sir.”

“Good. Sit. First things first, your pay. We’ll start at seventy-five cents per day. How does that sound to you?” 

“F-fine, sir.”

Actually it sounded  _ great  _ to David. Making seventy-five cents five times a week would mean they wouldn’t have to worry about rent this month. 

“Good. Don’t wear your school uniform, either. People here know St. George’s and I don’t want it looking like I have a school boy working for me.”

“But you do have a school boy working for you.” Pulitzer ignored him.

“Yesterday you were wearing plaid - don’t wear plaid to work.”

“But, sir, other than my school uniform all of my shirts are plaid.”

“ _ All  _ of them?”

“Well, I only have two.”

“Two shirts?” Pulitzer looked skeptical.

“Yes, sir, two shirts.” 

Pulitzer sighed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out eight dollars. 

“Here,” he said, handing it to David. “Go get a suit and some shirts.”

David gaped. This money could feed his family for weeks, and he just got it casually handed it? And to buy clothing? His parents were going to kill him. 

“Um…yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Yes, well for now, you can wear your uniform if you wear a different tie. Let’s go over what your actual job will be.”

“It will be good for me but…it’s scary.”

“Sounds it.” 

Davey and Jack were sitting in the main room of the lodging house, waiting for Les to return. Pulitzer let Davey go home around seven. He had been concerned at first about how he was going to do a full day’s work if he only got there at three thirty, but apparently his boss often worked until eleven o’clock or even midnight. Yet another thing for his parents to be mad about. 

“Yeah. But…anyway, I have to go buy a suit tomorrow.”

“A suit, huh? That’ll look nice on ya.”

“Shut up,” Davey muttered, blushing. 

“I’m just kidding, Dave. Everything looks nice on ya.” David shoved him. 

“I only mentioned it because I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I’m going to ask Katherine too because I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“What time?”

“When is good for you? Katherine and I have a more flexible schedule.”

Jack gave him a confused look. 

“Davey, you have class.”

“Eh, whatever. No one will notice if I miss one or two.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but all the other boys skip all the time and I never have, so…”

“But you did miss like two months though.”

“That’s…true. It’s fine, I have to go tomorrow before work and that means skipping class. When works for you?”

“I’ll be done selling by eleven and I won’t be able to pick up the next edition for a few hours anyway.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Somebody got stabbed at the docks this morning. Real rich fella, too. He was only there to sign something or other.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I can meet you at your school at eleven. Sound good?”

“You’re the best, Jacky. I really didn’t want to go alone.”

“Anything for you, doll.” 

Davey shoved him and this time he fell off the windowsill they were sitting on. 

“Hey! That’s not nice, Jacobs.” 

The door opened and Les walked in, followed by Crutchie.

“What’s not nice?” Crutchie asked. 

“Davey! He pushed me off the windowsill.”

“You probably deserved it.”

“He did. Come on, Les, the folks are waiting.” 

“So how was selling?”

“Fine.”

Les was being incredibly dismissive and grumpy. He was still mad at David for leaving him. He said that he was being ditched.

David sighed.

“Come on, bud, talk to me.”

“I am!”

“Not really though.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, David.”

“I want you to tell me if you’re mad.”

“Okay, I’m mad then.”

“Les…”

“What? I did what you wanted. It’s not my fault you’re too stuck up to be a newsie now.”

David seethed. That was entirely unfair - and from his own brother? David loved his parents very much but Sarah and he were almost exclusively the ones who took care of their younger brother. In Aba’s defense, he was always working and would come home exhausted, and now he was hurt too. In Ima’s defense, she was always working and she had some issues with sadness that went largely unaddressed except for Sarah and David whispering at night.

Their parents had more than enough on their plates and Sarah and he were happy to help. He knew it could be weird for Les sometimes that his siblings were in charge of him most of the day, and David sympathized with that, but didn’t he deserve a certain amount of respect? Maybe he was overreacting, but he was exhausted.

“Don’t speak to me like that. You know that’s not true and that it’s a hurtful thing to say. I’m doing this because it’s what’s best for the family.”

“And for yourself,” Les mumbled. 

“So what if I was?”

“What?”

“So what if I do something to benefit myself when it also benefits you guys. What’s so wrong with me doing something that could help me have a career in the future? A career, by the way, that could help all of us. I love being a newsie, Les, but soon enough I’ll be too old for it. Do you expect me to wait around until you’re done before finding myself another job?” 

Les huffed and crossed his arms. 

“No.”

“Right. Please don’t say things like that; they hurt me.”

“Okay. Sorry, David.” 

“That’s okay, boychik. And hey, I’ll still be selling with you on Sundays, I think. I actually have no idea if I work weekends. Are you happy selling with Crutchie?”

“Yep! I miss you but he’s fun too. We’re the sympathy dream team.”

David laughed. 

“Oh yeah? I bet you guys could give Jack a run for his money.”

“Yeah. Hey David, who’s going to walk me home if you’re working late?” Les asked. 

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe Jack? Or Race if he’s on his way to Brooklyn? We’ll figure it out.”

“And who’s going to pick me up from school? Jack can’t do it everyday can he?”

“He’s going to tomorrow. Seriously, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out.”

“And what about-”

“Les,” David interrupted, “We’ll figure it out.”

  
David  _ really  _ hoped they could figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and that it’s a little choppy! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David goes to school, the tailor, and to work. He somehow befriends two children along the way.
> 
> Also, Jack thinks attractive person is attractive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who started reading before May 22, I changed the name of David’s school. Schools in NY called St. Peter’s are almost always Catholic schools whereas I’ve seen St. George’s schools that are Protestant. It doesn’t make a lot of sense for it to be a Catholic school but I’ve left it pretty ambiguous (I think, I don’t know how private school works, especially in 1899).
> 
> This contains two antisemitic terms and discussion of violence.
> 
> Translation:  
> Neshama means soul and it’s David and Sarah’s nickname for each other because they feel like they share a soul. What can I say? They’re my favorite siblings to write about.

The next morning, after giving a message telling Katherine what time to meet him to one of the kids who sold near her office, David went to school. Before classes even started he knew it was going to be a rough day. William, one of the ringleaders of the boys who thought it was fun to play “beat the living shit out of David,” approached him. He tried to avoid him because he really couldn’t afford to go to work injured on his second day, but he was unsuccessful. He was cornered right inside the gates. 

“Morning, Jacobs. Nice weather today, huh?” William asked, a dark grin on his face. 

“Um…yes.” David put his head down and tried to walk away but was blocked by one of William’s goons. 

“Aren’t you going to say good morning?”

“Good morning.” 

“That paper next week for Marshall’s class sure sounds boring, huh?” 

Whatever this was couldn’t be good. David was literally backed up against the gate now, William’s hand resting casually above him, and there were no adults around. Three other boys surrounded him too. Besides for the five of them, none of the students were really paying attention. This was a pretty common occurrence and unless something exciting happened, they all either didn’t care or weren’t going to risk getting involved. The second group only consisted of two other boys, but David couldn’t blame them for not doing anything. All they would do was make themselves a target. 

“Yeah…yes, it seems boring. If you’d excuse me, I have to-”

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s the rush, Jacobs? Class starts at the same time for all of us and we’ve got a few minutes. So anyway, I was thinking that since you’ve missed so much school you might appreciate a little extra practice. You know, for studying purposes.” The boys around them snickered. “What do you say you do my paper too, huh?” 

Shit. 

“I don’t have time,” he whispered. 

“Don’t have time? Oh, that’s right!” William smacked his forehead, pretending to have just remembered. “You’ve got to sell newspapers! I’ve got to say, Jacobs, we were all very impressed with the strike this summer, weren’t we boys?” They nodded.

“Thanks,” he said nervously. 

“Yeah. It takes some real dedication to care that much about pennies. But hey, I shouldn’t be surprised; that’s what you yids are all about, isn’t it?” 

David swallowed. In the past, this is when he would start arguing back but a few years ago he gave up. He got hurt either way and he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of making him angry. Of course, this sometimes led to worse beatings, but it was worth it in the long run. He thought they might give up eventually but this was still their favorite activity.

“The papers aren’t due until next week, so I’m sure you’ll have the time.” He patted David’s cheek condescendingly. “I’ll even let you pick the topic. Isn’t that nice of me?” David didn’t answer and William leaned in more. “I asked you a question, penny chaser,” he growled. “I’ll ask again. Isn’t that nice of me?”

David nodded and tried again to get away but Joseph, another one of the boys, grabbed him by the collar and shoved him up against the gate. People were watching now. 

“Say it,” William ordered.

David knew he had to swallow his pride. If he got hurt he would have to go to work injured, if he went to work injured he might be fired, if he was fired he wouldn’t be able to do what he wanted for his family. 

“That’s nice of you.”

William smiled falsely and gestured for Joseph to let him go. He mockingly smoothed out David’s shirt for him. 

“See, was that so hard? Have it done by Thursday. Make it at least a B plus otherwise we’re going to have some problems. Come on, boys.” 

They left and David was left standing alone, trying to gather himself while everybody stared. He should be used to this by now: the humiliation, the anger, the adrenaline. Sometimes he wished he could go back to his old school but immediately dismissed the thought, feeling selfish.   
  


One of the worst parts of David’s day at school was chapel. Of course, he had no problem with his classmates praying, he just wished there wasn’t yet another opportunity to ostracize him. It had been suggested to him that he should pray too even if it’s not the same prayer. It was a good suggestion, certainly, but it would still ostracize him because even if he didn’t say his prayers out loud, he wouldn’t be kneeling like his peers often did.

It felt weird sometimes that he heard the Lord’s Prayer more often than he recited the Shema. All right, that wasn’t quite true, but it was close. He tried to focus on the parallels in Christian vs Jewish prayer when they had prayer sessions each day. Again, David had no problem with his classmates praying, he just felt disconnected from himself when he was reminded that he was away from his own faith. And no, he was never  _ truly _ away from it, but he still struggled.

Even after all these years he still got some stares for staying in the back. He had never been asked to sit away from his class but he felt it would be disrespectful for him to take a spot in the front when the service wasn’t meant for him.

Whatever the reason, David was trying very hard not to fall asleep in the chapel. Last time that had happened, he received a ruler to the hands (several times) when they returned to class. He couldn’t help it though. If David was sitting down with nothing to do for more than five minutes, it was likely he would fall asleep - that’s just how exhausted he always was. In class, he forced himself to focus because he had work to do based on the material they discussed but here he didn’t have the same incentive. 

Actually, he had been tested on his knowledge before (not so much academically as verbally) by teachers and usually came up short. He occasionally surprised them if they asked a question about the Old Testament, much of which made up parts of the Tanakh. He wasn’t dumb or incapable of retaining information, but he slept about four hours a night, so could he be blamed if he occasionally dozed off in class or chapel? His teachers clearly thought so.

He tried his best but his head kept falling to his chest and jerking up again. After what must have been the fifth or sixth time, the boy next to him tapped him on the arm to get his attention. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven. 

“If someone’s coming, I’ll poke you, if you want,” the boy offered, whispering. 

David smiled - just a little, but a smile, nonetheless. 

“Thanks, but I don’t want to risk getting you in trouble,” he whispered back, “I’ll stay awake.”

The boy didn’t look anywhere near convinced. 

“Okay. I’m Edmund, by the way.”

“David.”

“Why aren’t you up front? You’re definitely older than me.”

“Definitely,” David replied in a chuckle. “I don't go to church so I figured I’d leave the front to the boys who do.”

“You don’t? My mom says everybody should go to church.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” he teased. “Now stop talking to me or we’re both going to be in trouble.”

David went back to trying to focus on one spot on the wall. If he just focused hard enough, maybe he would wake up some more. It was flawed logic, he knew, but he would try anything. Edmund listened to the no talking rule for about thirty seconds. 

“How old are you? I just turned ten last week.”

“Happy birthday. I’m seventeen.” 

“Wow.”

“What, too old?”

“I don’t know.” Edmund shrugged. “I guess it makes sense, seeing as you’re super tall.”

“Super tall might be an exaggeration but all right.”

“No, you’re super tall. If my brother stood on my shoulders, we still wouldn’t be as tall as you.”

Kids were so weird. 

“Is your brother tall?”

“No; he’s only two.”

“Well, there you go then.”

“Hey David?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you sit next to me tomorrow morning too?” 

David was almost jealous of the confidence Edmund had; it reminded him a little of Les. They had spoken for the first time less than four minutes ago. David would never be able to have that type of confidence. Help lead a strike at age seventeen? Sure. Yell at the most powerful man in New York in his own office? No problem. But speak to someone in school without being introduced and then decide they would be friends? Never in a million years. He admired it and had to resist the urge to ruffle Edmund’s hair like he did Les’.

“Sure, Edmund; I’ll sit with you.”

  
  


Someone tripped him in the hallway two hours later but luckily he broke the fall with his hands and didn’t damage his face. He had successfully made it through the morning without injury. 

At ten forty-five, in between classes, he snuck out the side gate and went to meet his friends. Katherine had been the one to suggest this tailor and while he was sure her taste was impeccable, he wasn’t so sure he could afford it. He had made sure to tell her he had eight dollars to spend but who knows if she guessed the price of his purchase accurately.

“Dave!” Jack and Katherine were already waiting for him outside when he arrived. He smiled and hurried to them. 

“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming with me.”

“‘Course.”

“I’m excited to see you in a suit, Davey,” Katherine said. “I’m sure you’ll look even more handsome than normal.” He rolled his eyes and Jack laughed.

“Uh, Kath?” Jack said. “This place looks a little fancy.”

“It is but not everything is terribly expensive,” she told them. “Plus, there’s a certain level of  _ fanciness _ expected. Davey, are you okay?”

Apparently he looked as bad as he felt. It was one thing to do this hypothetically but in practice? He felt nauseous just thinking about it. It wasn’t even his money but the thought of spending it all on  _ clothing  _ was ridiculous to him. 

Eight dollars was only a little less than their rent. He had decided not to tell his parents until he had the clothing, because then they couldn’t demand to see the money. It’s not as if they would ever take it, only that they would judge him and the thought of his parents being disappointed in him (more than they already were) hurt him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…I’ve never spent this much money at one time before.” He could tell that Katherine was trying to hide her surprised look and he appreciated her effort. He knew - all the newsies knew, in fact - that Katherine (along with Darcy and Bill) was trying her best to understand. “It feels wrongs.”

“Try not to think about it,” she suggested. “Besides, it’s not even your money, so it’s not like you could use it for something else.”

“Still…”

Jack clapped him on the shoulder soothingly before holding the door for Katherine and him. A bell jingled above the door and the man behind the counter looked up. Katherine went in first and the man smiled. When she was followed by Davey (whose uniform may have been from an impressive school, but was threadbare and too small) and Jack (who was dressed like, well, a newsboy) the smile fell. 

“How can I help you, miss?” he asked pointedly. 

“Oh, I’m actually just here with my friend,” she replied, pulling David up beside her. 

“I see. Then how can I help you,  _ sir _ ?” 

“I’m looking for a suit.”

“What kind?”

David turned to Katherine. 

“What kind of suit am I looking for?” 

She rolled her eyes fondly and took over speaking to the tailor while Davey and Jack stood awkwardly and waited. Eventually, he went into a back room and Katherine turned to them. 

“Honestly, Davey…”

“Hey! I’ve never bought a suit before.”

“Before today I didn’t even know there were types of suits,” Jack added, Davey nodding along. “So what’s happening now?”

“He’s going to get some things for Davey to try on. He can figure out which one he likes the look of and then he’ll tailor it to fit him.”

“You guys are going to help me pick it out, right? I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Sure. What color were you thinking? He can always use the style you like in a different color.”

“What are my options?”

“Black, gray, or tan. Do you have a preference?” Katherine asked and he shrugged. He really didn’t. She sighed. “Well, I think tan would look really nice but it will be easy to tell you’re wearing the same one every day. Black is more traditional but you’ll be too hot in it some days so I’d say gray. Does that sound good?”

“Katherine, I can’t emphasize enough how little I know about fashion.”

“All right,” said the tailor, re-emerging with several suits. “Here.” He handed one to Davey and pointed to a room with a swinging door that didn’t go from floor to ceiling. 

The suit was far too big on him, and while he knew that it would be fixed, it was a little difficult to wear. When he came out, Katherine covered her mouth with her hand like she always did when she didn’t want people to know she was smiling, and Jack had the biggest shiteating grin Davey had ever seen. He glared. 

The tailor used pins to show them how it would look. That happened with several suits and Davey listened to Katherine’s opinion on each one, while simultaneously enjoying the look on Jack’s face when it was fitted to him.

Soon enough, they had made a decision and though it was apparently customary to pay after the suit was made, the tailor obviously didn’t trust that someone like Davey or Jack had the money, and asked him to pay up front. He also ordered a few different shirts so that it wouldn’t seem like he was fully wearing the same thing every single day. Davey figured the one vest he owned was enough. 

“That’ll come to eight dollars and twenty seven cents,” the tailor told him expectantly. David fished into his pocket for the eight dollars and prayed he had twenty-seven cents (he definitely did not). He might have had enough in his bag but he had been stupid enough to think leaving it at school was a good idea. Katherine must have noticed the nervous look on his face because she went into her change purse and pulled out a quarter and two pennies. He could have kissed her. Was it embarrassing? Yes, but better to be a little embarrassed than to not be able to pay at all.

He was still flustered when they left. Katherine linked arms with him and kissed his cheek. 

“Are you all right?”

“Fine, I think. Overwhelmed, maybe, but fine. Thanks for lending me the change. I’ll pay you back as soon as I have the money, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was more than happy to.”

“But I want-”

“Davey, please. Let me have done this okay? I know what you think but it isn’t charity when it’s friends,” she said. Davey wasn’t sure he completely agreed but he nodded and thanked her anyway. 

He noticed that Jack had been pretty quiet and glanced over his shoulder to look at him. Davey thought he looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“Jack, are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, “‘course I am.”

“Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Dave, I just gotta get back to the distribution center.”

“Jack, something is obviously wrong and-” Davey was cut off by the sound of Katherine’s laughter. He stared at her in confusion. “What?” 

“I can’t say it in public.”

“What?” 

She sighed and leaned in to whisper, “He’s flustered because of how you looked in those suits.” Katherine pulled back and giggled into his shoulder. Davey blushed and turned to Jack, who was now standing on Katherine’s other side. 

“Is that true?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said nonchalantly, but Davey could tell that he did.

“Michael Collins?”

“Hates him.”

“Douglas Martin?”

“Mostly indifferent, leaning towards dislike.”

“Peter Carmichael?”

“Thinks he’s smart but cocky.”

“Paul Baker?”

“Loves him.”

“Katherine Pulitzer?”

“Kath- Hannah!” 

It was eight in the evening and Pulitzer had gone to meet his wife for a late meal, leaving David temporarily alone with Hannah. She was quizzing him on people in the office and their boss’ opinions of them which, according to her, was something he needed to have down sooner rather than later.

“What? What’s his opinion on her?” Hannah asked, doing a pretty poor job of suppressing her laughter.

“Can we be serious please?”

“Fine. You’re no fun.”

“Not fifteen minutes ago you were telling me about how I had to know this.”

“Yeah, and I told you it all once and you seem to know it pretty well.”

In his day and a half of working with her, David had quickly come to realize that Hannah was a lot easier to talk to than anyone else he interacted with there. She was funny; kind; smart as a whip; and, perhaps most importantly, didn’t seem to care that David was a kid. He had gotten quite a few looks and sneers in the last twenty-four hours so it was nice that the only other desk in the room belonged to someone like her. He was surprised she and Pulitzer got along so well but he was grateful she was there. 

“David, relax, you’re fine. I was just telling you because there are going to be times someone tells you they just  _ have _ to seen him right away because it’s an  _ emergency  _ and you have to make the call.”

“What if it’s someone he doesn’t like and it’s an emergency?”

“Then it won’t be an emergency for him. And, if it really is, you can tell him.” 

How was David supposed to know what constituted an emergency? He could feel his stress levels rising.

“But-”

“And you can always ask me,” Hannah offered with a smile. Dave returned it. 

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” 

“Anytime. Did you finish your reading?” 

“No,” he replied, lifting the heavy tome that was on his desk for emphasis. “Does he expect me to get this done in the time it takes for him to eat dinner?”

“You don’t have to read that whole thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s over five hundred pages and he didn’t exactly give me a clear deadline.”

Pulitzer had told him the day before that part of his time at work would be spent educating him on what he thought was vital for David to know. He was currently reading  _ Sakhalin Island _ because Pulitzer said he needed to learn what good journalism looked like. It was a little insulting considering the number of times in the last week that David had explained that he did, in fact, read the paper. At the same time, this was actually something he had wanted to read for a while and books were not a priority when it came to the Jacobs’ budget; food and rent came first…which, fair.

“Well, at least now you know what you’ll be doing in your free time the next few days,” she told him. David groaned. “What? You don’t like reading?”

“I  _ love _ reading but that’s not the point. I don’t  _ have _ any free time. Either I’m at school or working or now, here.”

“Working?”

“Just because I have a job doesn’t mean I don’t have work to do at home. In the evenings after I’m done selling my sister and I usually help out with the laundry and sewing my mother takes in.”

“There’s that much that it lasts into the evening?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “During the day she brings the finished work back and picks up the new stuff. It doesn’t take all day but she has chores to do as well.”

“And let me guess: you help out with those?”

“If she needs it but she’s just about the hardest working person I know, so she rarely does. Anyway, she starts it before the evening but it takes hours.” 

Hannah smiled at him softly. 

“You’re a good boy, David. People could stand to learn a lesson or two from you.”

“I don’t do anything more than anyone else would do.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Well, my siblings do more than I do.” 

“I-”

She started to say something to him but then Pulitzer came back and he was immediately dragged into his office to be dictated to, so the conversation ended. By the time he got back to the outer office, Hannah had left. 

It was ten thirty before Pulitzer sent him home, and he had forgotten just how long the walk was. He passed one of the younger boys, still trying to sell his last few papers. Davey would be hard pressed to remember his name, seeing as he was not one of the kids who stayed at the lodging house, so he avoided having to say it all together.

“Hey, kid,” he called, approaching. The boy startled and turned around, smiling when Davey came into view. 

“Oh. Hiya, Mr. Jacobs.” 

Davey resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Race had gotten it into his head that it would be really funny to tell the youngest kids who didn’t know Davey to call him Mr. Jacobs “out of respect for the man who saved your asses almost a dime a day.” Davey had pointed out to him many times that he never told them to call Jack Mr. Kelly. Race insisted that because Jack was their leader and the kids needed to feel like they could go to him, he needed to be seen as an equal. David thought this was flawed logic. Race’s annoying prank seemed to have worked though. In fact, it worked so well that David had given up correcting them about a month early - it never worked anyway.

“Are you almost ready to call it a day?” 

“Umm…I don’t know.” The kid shrugged nervously. “Still got three papes.”

“This isn’t really a spot for nightlife so you might have trouble.”

“I guess,” the boy said, sighing miserably. “I’ll take ‘em back in the morning.”

“Nah, don’t bother. Here,” he fished out a nickel from his satchel and handed it to the boy. “My parents and sister will each want a copy.” 

“Thank you! Let me give you your change.”

“Keep it.” 

Davey couldn’t be sure what possessed him to say that. He could barely afford to buy those papers as it was, and his family didn’t need them but the kid looked exhausted and like he really needed it. He took the papers from him and put them in his bag. “Where do you live?”

“Canal Street and Broadway.” 

“All right. I’ll take you.”

“Mr. Jacobs-“

“I don’t want you walking home alone.”

Davey knew this would set him back about half an hour but he really did want the kid to have someone to walk with, especially if he was going to be passing through the Bowery. He couldn’t have been older than seven and the thought of Les - who was at least two years older than the boy - walking home alone in the dark made him uneasy. His parents were angry at him for coming home late anyway, and he never did end up giving them a specific time because he had no way of knowing when he would be home. 

“Thanks.”

“Lead the way.”

The kid chatted to him about the poor headline in the evening edition that made it so hard to sell. Davey was more than sympathetic to a bad headline considering the number of times he had had to deal with it. 

“How long have you been selling for? I don’t mean today, I mean in general.” 

“Not sure.” The boy shrugged. “About a year.” 

“How old are you?”

“Seven and a half.”

David felt a pang in his heart. Nobody young enough to still refer to themselves as something and a half should be forced to work to survive. He knew that was the case with lots of the newsboys and girls (as well as children with other jobs) throughout the city, but it still hurt, especially when he seemed so casual about it, like it was fair. 

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Yep! I’ve got two little brothers and two little sisters and one older sister.” 

“And what about your folks?”

He hoped the question wasn’t insensitive but despite not knowing his name, David now felt attached to the kid. He wanted to make sure he was okay.

“I got Mama, and she says Papa’s in heaven.”

“I’m sure she’s right,” David replied, voice shaky. He might not have believed in that version of the afterlife, but for the kid’s sake he hoped his father had peace in some form of another.

“Is it true you work for Pulitzer now, sir?”

Really? They were calling him sir now? Davey was going to punch Race in the arm as hard as he could next time he saw him.

Did the news spread that quickly? Three days ago Davey had no idea he would be offered his job and now a random newsboy whose name he didn’t even know knew about it. He was undeniably worried about what they would think of him. 

“What paper did you sell today?” he asked.

“The World.”

“Well then we both work for Pulitzer, don’t we?”

“I work for him  _ some  _ days, but you work for him every day now, right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I do.”

“That’s great!”

“You think so?” Davey asked, surprised. 

“Yeah! Maybe now that you’re there he’ll be nicer to us.”

“I, uh…I’m not sure I have that kind of influence.”

“But you’re still the vice president, ain’t ya?”

“I…” Davey trailed off. Was he still the vice president? Sure, he would be selling on Sundays but was that enough? Would the others still see him as a real newsie? “I think so. For now, at least.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re real nice and Jack says you’ve got a big brain.”

“He does?” he replied, chuckling.

“Yeah. He says it’s too big for your own good.”

Davey laughed. 

“Well, Jack’s got a  _ mouth _ too big for his own good,” he told him. The kid looked confused. “What’s wrong?”

“That don’t make sense. I thought  _ you  _ were the walking mouth.”

  
  


The next morning was tense. His parents had both been asleep when he got home and so the anger he would have gotten after work was still waiting for him. Les seemed oblivious to the tension or else he was pretending to be. Sarah was in a bad mood because she was mad at their parents for being mad at him. David appreciated the sentiment but he would prefer her to be happy; her anger was certainly not helping.

“How was work yesterday, David?” his father asked in Polish. He seemed less angry than his mother. When David first spoke to them about the job, he had been just as furious as his mother but since then he seemed to have calmed down, at least a little. David had very little experience with his parents being mad at him but the few times it had happened in the past, whichever parent was less angry or disappointed always tried their best to ease the tension. That was one of the many things he loved about them.

“It was fine,” he said awkwardly. “The secretary is nice.”

“That’s good. And you got there on time without skipping out on classes?”

“Yes, Aba.” 

Was he trying to emphasize this to his mother? He could only hope. She was still glaring at the stove, refusing to look over to the small table.

“Good.”

“Do you like it, David?” Les asked sweetly. 

“I think so, but it’s a little early to say. I’m learning a lot.”

“Like what?” his father prompted.

“Well, he’s teaching me about how the newspaper works.”

“You already know that,” his mother spat, not turning around. “You sell the newspaper.” 

“I’m…I’m learning about how they make it…how the editing and journalism aspects work.”

“And is that where you got that book in your bag?”

“Ima, why are you looking through my bag?”

She finally turned around. 

“What, are you not my son anymore? Do I not have a right to know what you’re up to?”

“You know what I’m up to,” David said, keeping his voice even.

“How should I? I knew what you used to do but now I’m not sure.”

“I told you about it, Ima. I take notes, I speak to-”

“You run around the city doing things for this man.”

“He ran around the city doing things for that man when he was a newsie,” Sarah pointed out. David shot her a look to let her know she wasn’t helping. 

“One thing, Sarah! Doing one thing! I would like to know what it is my son does!”

“He’s tried to explain it to you but you aren’t listening!”

“Sarah, don’t speak to your mother that way.”

“But, Aba-”

“What about Fridays, David? Will you be home for Shabbat? Will you  _ care _ about Shabbat?” Ima asked angrily. 

David wasn’t sure any question could hurt him more than that one did. Did he care about Shabbat? Of course he did. Just because he had a new job didn’t mean he stopped caring about his faith - about God. No, David didn’t think he would be struck down with a bolt of lighting if he ended up working late on a Friday night, but he still had no intention of doing so. And despite however much he tried to suppress the knowledge of it from the public, David knew (as did most people) that Pulitzer was born Jewish, even if he no longer practiced; surely he would understand. 

“That isn’t fair, Ima,” Sarah said before he could reply. “We’re talking about the person who insisted he was well enough to go to shul when he was so sick that he couldn’t get out of bed. Do you honestly think he doesn’t care?”

“I’m not sure. How am I supposed to know that if I don’t know him anymore?”

Okay, maybe there  _ was _ a question that could hurt him more. 

“Ima, you know me! I-”

“What did you do with the eight dollars?”

David froze. 

“What?”

“The eight dollars I found in your pants pocket two nights ago but wasn’t there last night. What did you do with it?”

“I’m sorry, eight dollars?” Aba repeated. “David, what were you doing with that much money?”

“It wasn’t mine. It was Mr. Pulitzer’s.”

“Then why did you have it?”

“He…he wanted me to buy something, Ima.”

“And what was that?”

“A suit.”

“For him?”

“No,” he admitted in a whisper. 

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m sorry, Ima. He told me I had to wear-”

“What’s so wrong with him getting clothes he needs for work?” Sarah questioned. “It’s not like it’s a waste of his money. He was given it for the purpose of buying a suit, Ima.”

“I know that!”

“Then why does it matter?”

“Do you know what that looks like?”

“Maybe we should try to keep it down,” Aba suggested. “It’s early.” He was ignored.

“It looks like he’s taking advantage!”

“Of what? You expected him to go to work in his school uniform that’s falling apart? Or his shirts that are too small for him?”

“Sarah, it’s okay, you don’t-”

“No, it’s not okay, David! She’s being unfair!”

“Well, I’m very sorry what we can provide for him isn’t good enough for you, Sarah.”

Sarah groaned and looked like she wanted to pull her hair out. 

“That’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying that he isn’t taking advantage of anything when he’s being told to do it and that it isn’t entirely surprising that he was told he needed something else to wear!”

“It looks bad!”

“How?”

“I don’t want him being called things!”

“He’s called things already!”

“Sarah, stop,” David pleaded. 

“He’s constantly called things. You think a suit will make it worse? He’s not going to wear it to school and hundreds of people work in that building. Do you think he’s the only Jew? Pulitzer is Jewish!”

“He hides it.”

“So what, you want him to hide it? You want David to be ashamed?”

“No! I want him to be safe! I don’t want him getting hurt on his way home at night because he’s in nice clothing! I don’t want the boys at school to make fun of him if they see him in it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and scoffed. 

“Make fun of him? Are you joking? You see the bruises he comes home with, yes? You think they don’t make fun of him already?”

“Sarah, you need to stop,” David begged again. 

“Actually, them making fun of him is the least of his concerns. That’s a good day at school, right, David? The days when all they do is make fun of you?”

“All right, enough!” Aba ordered. “Both of you! None of this is helpful to anybody. Sarah, show respect to your mother. Esther, it isn’t David’s fault that his boss wants him to wear a suit, it’s what most people wear to where David works, I’m sure. Right, David?” he asked. David nodded hesitantly. “Right. So can the two of you calm down for five minutes? Or at least let David speak instead of speaking about him?”

“It’s okay, Aba.”

“It’s time to go anyway. All three of you, get your things and go.”

“You aren’t coming?” Les asked. Usually their father walked with them to the corner and then they turned their opposite ways. 

“I have plenty of time to get to work. Go.” 

The siblings escaped as fast as they could. Les held David’s hand and Sarah huffed with her arms crossed as they walked down the street. It wasn’t quite cold out yet, but it was getting there. Fall weather was David’s favorite. He liked the refreshing chill of the air and the colors on the trees in Central Park. This morning, however, it was hard to fully appreciate it. 

David knew Sarah would break the silence eventually and it was best to just wait it out instead of starting when she wasn’t ready. It only took about three minutes.

“I don’t understand why you don’t stick up for yourself,” she said in English. 

“I do.”

“Not to her.”

“He stuck up for himself this summer,” Les tried to help. David gave his hand an appreciative squeeze and a look that said not to bother. 

“He stuck up for himself when it involved sticking up for others. He doesn’t ever speak above a whisper at home.”

David rolled his eyes. 

“Yes I do.”

“Well, not by much. I swear, I have to strain to hear you some days.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” she said, nodding. “Unless we’re alone or with just Les I never hear you speak at a normal volume. The biggest surprise of my life was that you started a strike.”

“ _ Helped  _ start a strike.”

“The second biggest was the first time I heard someone call you the walking mouth.”

“Sarah-”

“Trust me, it came close to being number one. Why aren’t you like that at home? Why do I never get to see that side of you unless we’re with the newsies? Why can’t you show me, of all people? Aren’t we supposed to be twins? Best friends?”

“We  _ are _ twins and best friends. It isn’t about you and you know that so stop trying to get me to feel guilty.”

“Fine, maybe I know it isn’t about me but what  _ is _ it about? I have no idea anymore. Are you scared at home?”

“No!”

“Do you not trust Ima and Aba or something?”

“No!”

“Then what is it?”

“We’ll talk about this later.”

“David, you-”

“Later,” he hissed. He almost never got angry or even frustrated with Sarah so she knew to stop talking. Normally, Les would complain that they could talk about stuff around him because he was a big kid too but he remained silent. 

When they got to Les’ school he and Sarah each gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Love you, boychik.”

“I love you.”

“Love you guys too. Bye!” He waved and ran off. Whether he was excited to see his school friends or to get away from the awkwardness, David didn’t know. 

Sarah tried to talk to him right away but David marched ahead and made her wait until they had made it to the next block.

“David-”

“First of all, if I tell you to stop talking about my business in front of someone, you stop.”

“It’s our parents and they already know you get hurt. What, does she not see your bruises all the time?”

“I make up excuses.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. 

“She knows they’re fake.”

He stopped.

“Yeah, Sarah, she does! But it’s how we both keep sane, all right? She tells herself that I’m not getting hurt and I tell myself that I’m protecting her from the truth. You know that already so stop acting like you don’t! Do you want her to pull me out of school? Because if she thinks I’m in real danger then she will.”

He continued walking without waiting for her response. 

“It isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t care. That was just the first thing. Second, don’t  _ ever  _ talk about that in front of Les. Ever. He didn't know that!”

“He doesn’t know that you get soaked? Please,” she huffed, “he’s not blind.”

“No, but he’s not even ten! If I tell him I tripped or that I hit my head on something or whatever I decide to tell then he believes me! It’s rare that anything happens to my face, and so he doesn’t see most of the time! Christ, Sarah!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. He scoffed. “No, I really am.” She sounded earnest. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He knows now and nothing is going to change that.”

“Neshama, all I wanted to do was help you, okay? I’m sorry that I messed up but I promise my intentions were good.”

“I know that, Sarah, but I don’t care about things like that nearly as much as you do. It only ends up hurting me when you do that.”

“You don’t care about getting hurt?”

“I don’t care about them not knowing. I don’t  _ want  _ them to know. Look, I appreciate you defending me about the suit but you could have left it at that.”

“And ignore her yelling?”

“Yes! She only yelled because-”

“She yelled before I even said anything.”

“You prolonged it. You shouldn’t have yelled and you shouldn’t have kept going.”

“When would you like me to have stopped?”

“I would have liked you not to  _ start _ but if you had to then you could have told her that I’d be fine at work.”

“She didn’t believe me.”

“And what, you thought she was going to if you kept yelling?”

“David, she can’t seem to get it into her head that not everybody hates Jews.”

“Can you blame her? I mean, you were there, you remember why we had to come to America. And by the way, it’s not like we’re exactly lacking in hatred for us here,” he pointed out. She snorted. “I'd rather her be cautious than not care at all.”

“There’s a difference between caution and paranoia.”

“Whatever. It’s nice that she’s worried about me.”

“She goes through your stuff, David! That’s crossing a line.”

“I don’t like it either but I am her kid.”

“You have a right to privacy.”

“She gave birth to me, Sarah. She cares for me, she looks after me, she provides for me, she-”

“I’m not going to argue about the other stuff, and you know I love and appreciate her too, but you do realize you were the breadwinner this summer, right?” 

David stopped in his tracks.

“No,” he said slowly, “I didn’t realize that.”

She swatted him on the back of the head lightly and kept walking. He followed. 

“Yes, you idiot.”

“Actually, it was probably Les.” 

She laughed. 

“I’m serious! I’m kinda terrible  _ now  _ so I was awful when we first started and now that I think about it, depending on the day, you were the breadwinner.”

“Whatever, this doesn’t matter.”

“It mattered to you two seconds ago!” David teased. 

“Because you seemed to think just because Ima does so much for us that means you don’t have any rights.”

He rolled his eyes. 

“I know I have rights and I don’t like that she went through my stuff, but I don’t care nearly as much as you do.”

“What if you had something in there you weren’t supposed to? Something bad.”

“But I don’t. And what do you suppose I would have? Pornography?”

She pushed him and he laughed.

“Who knows what drawings Jack gives you?” 

“Sarah!” he complained. “Be quiet! We’re in public!”

“Nobody knows what we’re talking about. Stop worrying so much.”

“Have you met me?”

“True. Okay, look, I’m really sorry about this morning. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, neshama. I know you did it because you love me and there’s nothing I won’t forgive you for.”

He offered up his arm, she took it and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“You’re the best person I know.”

“You’re the best person  _ I _ know.” 

The loud sound of chatter and laughter signaled that they were almost at Sarah’s school. She sighed. 

“You’ll be safe today, won’t you?”

“Weren’t you the one just saying that Ima is paranoid?”

“David.” Sarah gave him a significant look. 

“Yeah, yeah, I will. I took on and  _ won over  _ Joseph Pulitzer; I can handle a couple of kids whose only real power comes from daddy’s money. I’ve done it before.”

“You should really fight back.”

“We’re not having this discussion right now.” 

“Fine. I love you.” 

“I love you too.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has had it and he speaks his mind. The repercussions of this are unsurprising. Jack tries his best to take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in this chapter for antisemitic terms/slurs, violence, injury, and Pulitzer being a dick.
> 
> There might be some typos but I’ll go back later and fix them. I rarely notice on my first read through.

“Morning, Jacobs!” William yelled across the yard as David entered through the gates. It appeared that the years were intermingled today instead of purposely standing in their own separate areas, which meant that about a hundred boys turned to look at him. Fan-fucking-tastic.

William and several of his posey started to approach him. “How’s that paper coming along?” David swallowed. 

“Um, okay. It’s fine.” He really needed to start that soon. 

“Good, good. So guess what? There’s a rumor going around.” David didn’t say anything. “Aren’t you going to ask me what it is?”

“What is it?” he asked quietly, staring at his shoes as if they were suddenly fascinating to him. 

“Well, the rumor is that Edward want to the tailor yesterday and saw your name attached to one of the orders being worked on.”

“It’s not mine.”

“It’s not?” It was obvious that William knew he was lying.

“It’s not an uncommon name.”

“No, I guess not. Still, funny coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

William grabbed his chin and lifted his face up so that David was forced to make eye contact. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talking to you? What’s so interesting about the ground, anyway? Looking for change?” he mocked. The boys around him laughed. 

Other students came a little closer, probably trying to look casual but anyone with a brain could tell they were just trying to listen in. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“That’s good. Sell enough papers last night then?” David had nothing to say. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

“Maybe he’s just tired, William,” Anthony suggested sarcastically. “After all, delivering the news is probably a  _ very  _ tiring job.” 

David bristled. There was only so much he could take, especially when these people didn’t have a clue what it was like to work for a living. David was out at midnight last night to bring a seven year old home and he wasn’t even the youngest kid David knew who sold - not by a long shot. Fuck these guys. 

“It is,” he told them sternly. “It is and I don’t even have it the worst, so stop talking about things you don’t understand.”

“Oh? Tell us more,” William said, pretending to be nice. 

“Sure. How many of you have been up before dawn and out until midnight since age five? How many of you have done that only to come home to no food?” He was speaking so that everybody around them could hear too. “How many of you have to be brother and parent both to your siblings? How many of you have to rely on a headline to pay rent? How many of you think a good day is when you and your friends can afford a bed? How many of you have to worry about getting sick because you can’t afford a doctor? How many of you have to do that and then go outside and work in the snow without a jacket and with shoes that are falling apart? None of you. Any one of my friends works a thousand times harder than all of you combined every day, and don’t have a tenth of what you have. I don’t care what you say about me but don’t disrespect the working kids of this city. Because guess what? Nobody was happy that day this summer when the city was practically shut down ’cause kids stopped working. You take for granted the things you have and don’t realize that without people like my friends, you wouldn’t have any of them.”

He tried to walk away but William grabbed him by the collar. Fuck, had he really said all that? What was he thinking? He needed to learn to control his anger better. Not everyone he yelled at was going to turn around and offer him a job two months later. 

“It’s not nice to walk away like that without giving us a chance to respond,” William said. Before he could say anything else, the church bell rang and signaled that it was time to go inside. William huffed. “Tell you what, Jacobs; why don’t we meet after school and discuss this, hmm? We never meant to hurt your feelings, did we, Anthony?”

“Of course not! Why would we do that to our friend?” 

“Exactly. Maybe to make up for it we can help you! People are more likely to buy papers from someone pathetic, yeah? Well, don’t, worry, yid.” His voice then turned from light and mocking to a growl. “We’ll make you look it.” He shoved David hard in the chest and he stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. 

“I saw you yelling this morning,” Edmund said in place of a greeting before David was even seated. “What were you yelling about?”

“I wasn’t yelling and don’t worry about it.” David sat down next to him and hoped that would be the end of it.

“But what did that word mean? The one the boy called you? A y-”

“Don’t say it and don’t worry about it,” David whispered sternly. 

“But-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he ordered for the third time. “I’m serious.” 

Edmund deflated.

“Okay.”

David felt a little guilty about making him upset but he  _ really  _ did not want to discuss it. He sighed. 

“I’m sorry. Please, just don’t talk about it and don’t repeat that word.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a bad word.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means…it’s a rude word for someone like me, okay?” David did his best to explain it in a way that he thought would shut the conversation down. 

“What do you mean?” 

David stared at Edmund for a moment, confused. Did he not realize? Reflecting, David realized it made sense considering he had been surprised to hear that David didn’t attend church outside of school.

Did he take this opportunity to brush it off and not tell him? No, that was stupid. It wasn’t as if the ten year old was going to suddenly start beating on him with the other boys. What was it that made David feel hesitant? Was he really so desperate for allies in school that he would lie to a ten year old about something that shouldn’t even matter? Maybe. 

“I mean, it’s a rude word for a Jew.”

Apparently not. David had his pride and being nervous that Edmund would stop liking him was embarrassing (even though it was all internal).

“Oh. Are you one?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you at church?” 

David scoffed, not unkindly. 

“Because I have to be.”

“Oh. But Mama said that the Jews don’t like good Christians like us because they hate Jesus.” 

He resisted the urge to snort, but barely. Maybe he should have been offended - and he was, somewhat - but he had long since stopped fighting people like Edmund’s mother. It just wasn’t worth it to try to convince someone so ignorant that he wasn’t evil - to have to constantly justify his existence.

One time, he had been stopped on the street by a man who was trying to get people to attend a bible study group. David had tried to be polite but when the man persisted, he eventually told him that he was not, in fact, a Christian. 

_ “That’s okay!” the man had replied jovially. “We accept people in all stages of faith; you’ll get there.” _

So no, David didn’t have many positive experiences with this particular discussion but this was different. Edmund was just a kid who had no way of knowing any better.

“Well, sorry, but your mama’s wrong. We don’t hate Christians.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“But you hate Jesus!” he declared a little too loudly. David shushed him. 

“No! I don’t! Can you please be a little quieter? I don’t hate Jesus and  _ please _ don’t say that when we’re in church; it won’t go over well for me.”

“But you killed him, didn’t you?”

“No, the Romans did. Also, it was almost two thousand years ago, so  _ nobody  _ who is alive did it.”

“But-”

“Edmund, seriously,” he said as the service began, “I didn’t kill Jesus and neither did anyone you’ll ever meet.”

“I thought-”

“Jesus, was a Jew. I promise you, I don’t have any feelings - negative or otherwise - towards him, because we don’t know each other.” 

“But he’s  _ God,  _ David.”

“That isn’t what I believe. Take out your bible and at least  _ pretend  _ you’re following along,” he ordered. Edmund huffed but did as he was told. 

“Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know, why aren’t you a Buddhist? I believe what I believe and so do you.”

“But-”

“Edmund, I respect what you believe in, can you please respect what I believe in? Or at least not tell me why I’m wrong?” 

Edmund nodded, a pout on his face. 

“Okay. Sorry, David.”

“Don’t be,” he said with a small smile. “I’m sorry if I snapped or hurt your feelings.”

He shook his head. 

“You didn’t, just…” Edmund shrugged.

“Just what?”

“Just, that I’ve never met someone who doesn’t believe in God.”

“I  _ do _ believe in God, I just don’t believe in Jesus being God or His son.”

“Well, I’ve never met someone Jewish.”

“I promise you have,” David told him with a chuckle. 

“How do you know?”

“Have you spoken to every single person you’ve ever met about religion?” he asked. Edmund shook his head. “Then you have no way of knowing what they believe.”

“Everyone I’ve met looks like a Christian.”

“Everyone just looks like a person. And not five minutes ago you thought I was a Christian.”

“Sorry.”

David sighed. 

“No, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be so snippy. It’s just been a long week.”

“That’s okay, but you know it’s Wednesday, right?”

He got about thirty minutes of silence after that, which was nice. He used the time to try and plan an escape route from the school so that he could get to work and worry about getting beat up another time. The trouble with that, however, was that he had tried this even before he had a job to be at and William and pals had caught on pretty quickly. David wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone waiting for him at every exit.

****  
  


There was, because of course there was. He should have paid more attention to who was walking near him in the hallways. One of the boys, apparently, had followed him to see which direction he was going and then he ran back to get the others.

The second David opened the sidedoor by the janitors’ closet, he was greeted with a fist to the gut and his peers laughing. He had the wind knocked out of him and he collapsed to the ground with his right shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. Someone yanked his bag away and threw it aside while someone else closed the door firmly behind him. William rested a foot and David’s other shoulder.

“Afternoon, Jacobs,” he said with an evil smirk. “How were classes?” David didn’t have his voice back yet. “No? Not feeling chatty? That’s too bad. Me and the boys, we’ve been racking our brains trying to figure out how to help you out with your little selling problem.”

“Yeah, took us some time,” Anthony added. He clapped the shoulder of the person next to him. “Then Henry, here, had a great idea!”

“Yeah. See, people are going to give more money to the kids that need it, right?” William asked rhetorically. He took his foot off of David, but not before pressing down on him roughly. David groaned. “I’ll take that as a yes. And we thought, ‘hey, what better way to help Jacobs then to make him more sympathetic?’ Henry? It was your idea; want to do the honors?” 

Before he had even processed what was happening, David felt a foot connect with his stomach. He cried out but the kicking continued. He couldn’t breathe and it felt like hours before it stopped (thought he knew it was probably less than a minute). During that time, he felt at least one or two ribs crack.

“Oh, Henry, you know what I just realized?” 

“What’s that?” 

“Jacobs can’t sell newspapers shirtless, so we’ll have to help a little more…visibly, let’s say.” 

David lifted his eyes enough to see William gesture for Peter to hold David’s arms while Anthony dragged him up to his feet. His front was now entirely exposed and he wasn’t about to waste the energy it would take to try and struggle away when it would inevitably be fruitless. 

The first punch to his face was painful but expected; the second punch was, in David’s opinion, a bit overkill. He let out another cry and then a groan as Peter shifted and his ribs were jerked.

“A limp couldn’t hurt either, could it?”

“Good thinking, Max. Jacobs, you better appreciate all the help we’re giving you. Now how should we do this?”

Oh, shit, were they planning on actually breaking his leg? That seemed harsher than a lot of the things they had done to him before (at the same time at least). Then again, it had been years since David had fought back the way he did that morning. Sure, it was verbal, but it was loud and of a new variety. 

“Well, we’ve got a-”

“Hey!” 

Everyone turned around to look at the person approaching. David’s immediate reaction was a combination of relief and fury.

“Who are you?” William shouted. 

“What the hell are you doing? Let him go!” 

“Sure,” Peter said and David toppled to the ground. 

Though David knew that Jack wanted to either help him or punch Peter, he resisted the urge. He  _ would  _ have liked help but at least Jack wasn’t fighting his classmates.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Can’t you see he’s had enough?”

“I’ll decide when he’s had enough. You don’t know anything about this,” William spat. 

“There are five of you and one of him! In what universe is that a fair fight? Move.” He pushed Max out of the way and got on one knee next to David. “Are you all right?” he whispered. 

As best as anybody who was forming a black eye could, David glared at him.

“What do you think?” 

“Who  _ are _ you?” William demanded. “You-” 

Before he could say anything else Jack was on his feet and had grabbed William by the collar and shoved him up against the stone wall. None of his friends seemed to know what to do. 

“I’m gonna suggest you take your little fucking posey and leave now.”

“Or what?”

“Or you can look forward to a soaking from me and every other kid in New York who owes their livelihood to Davey,” Jack said. He leaned in close and said the next part directly into William’s ear, volume the same. “And that’s a lot of fucking kids.”

“Wait, to D- oh. You know him?” Anthony questioned. 

“You’re one of his little newsboy friends. Well, isn’t that cute? I’m sure  _ Davey  _ appreciates your protection.”

From the ground, David let out a groan.

“Yeah, I  _ am  _ a newsboy. I’ve been on the streets since before you learned to put on your own fucking ascot and I’ve acquired some skills.” 

William squeaked uncomfortable and David knew Jack must have been pushing on some sort of pressure point. 

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You aren’t? Well then you’re stupider than you look.” Peter moved and without turning away from William, Jack hissed, “Touch him again and I’ll carve your eyeballs out with a spoon.”

“Jack,” David moaned, “stop.” 

“Like you said, there are five of us. You’re really going to try and fight us?”

“Nah, that ain’t a fair fight. You fellas wouldn’t stand a chance. But do this again and I swear to god I’ll be back with some of the most dangerous kids in New York. I’ve fought bulls, been to jail, soaked guys three times your size just for something to do.”

“What’s your point?” William sounded nervous.

“My point,” Jack elaborated, pulling him a little bit away from the wall and slamming him back again, “is that at least one of you would piss yourself before you got a punch in.” 

“Boss, maybe we should-”

“Oh, they call you boss? That’s real cute. I’ve got about a hundred fifty kids who call me the same thing. It’s hard being the boss, ain’t it? Just this morning I had to convince a couple of my boys to stop sharpening their blades in front of folks ’cause it makes them nervous.” Jack put William down and shoved him away. “Chase it before I get them here; those blades must be plenty sharp by now.” 

The boys left without saying another word. It seemed they weren’t about to risk making Jack angrier than he already was. Jack knelt down beside him. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Davey croaked.

“Yeah, well, it’s only for you that I didn’t soak ’em then and there. What’s hurt?”

“Everything,” he admitted. He felt a tear roll down his cheek until Jack wiped it away. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I promise I’m going to make you feel better, all right?” Davey nodded. “All right.” Jack inspected him for about three minutes before sighing. “It’s not dangerous to move you but it’s gonna hurt like hell.”

“Can’t be much worse than it already is.” 

“Doubt it.” Jack picked up his and Davey’s bags and then slowly but painstakingly got him to his feet. He held Davey’s right arm around his shoulder and took most of his weight. “Think you’re ready to walk?” 

“Okay. By the way, ‘soaked guys three times your size for something to do’?”

“Whatever. It scared him, didn’t it?” They began walking.

“Where did you come from?”

“I was waiting for you on the corner outside the entrance. I heard a cry.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to walk you to work.”

“Well, now you can,” Davey said with a humorless laugh. 

“What? No, Dave, you’re not going to work.”

“I have to.”

“You’re hurt!”

“I can’t risk losing my job, Jack. I’ll clean up and-”

“I’ll clean you up, then.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Joe’s gonna have to deal with you being a little late.”

“But-”

“Even he’ll understand once he sees you.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah. Look, I know you’re going to be mad but we’re stopping at the lodging house.”

“Jack-”

“Seriously, I need to get you bandages and I need water to clean your cuts.”

If Davey had the energy to argue, he would have. Instead, he followed Jack quietly, occasionally whimpering in pain.

“If you’re here then who got Les?”

“Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about right now? Buttons volunteered to get him.”

“Oh. That’s okay then.”

They approached the lodging house and Jack tried his best to get Davey inside and onto the ratty couch in the main room without jostling him too much, but it was still excruciating.

“Woah, Mouth, what the hell happened?” Race asked, running over with JoJo.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re finished with the afternoon edition. What happened to you?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too,” Jack said. 

Davey told them everything once JoJo and Race brought Jack water and bandages. The water stung a little but Race insisted that Jack put at least a little whiskey on some of the bigger cuts and that hurt much more. 

“Where the fuck did you get whiskey?”

“Ask Elmer, I stole it from him.” That had been a surprise. 

Davey was a little embarrassed about the part where he had yelled at the boys but his friends seemed to think it was awesome.

After doing everything that could be done, Davey insisted on getting to work and Jack grudgingly agreed on the condition that he walked him there. After less than ten blocks Davey was flagging. Jack found an unoccupied cart in an alley and made him sit down on it for a minute. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Davey shrugged and instantly regretted it. He hissed in pain. Jack put a hand on his cheek for a moment, caressing, and he missed its warmth as soon as it was gone.

“I’m just sorry. Fuck, Jacky, it hurts.” 

“I know, doll, I’m sorry.” He wiped a tear from Davey’s cheek and pressed a soft kiss where it had been. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No it isn’t! I’m going to get fired.”

“For getting soaked?”

“Yes! I can’t show up looking like this.” He gestured vaguely at himself. “Oh, fuck, there’s blood on my shirt. Give me yours.”

“What? Dave, it’s too big.”

“Mine has  _ blood  _ on it, Jacky.”

“So does mine!” he argued. 

“Only a little.”

“Yeah, it’s also dirty and it’s got fresh paint stains on it.”

“Of course you had to fucking go to Medda’s,” Davey spat angrily. 

“Woah! What are you angry at me for? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Davey immediately deflated.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m really sorry. I know it isn’t your fault and that you did nothing wrong. I’m sorry.” 

He was shushed softly and pulled in to rest his head on Jack’s chest. Jack rubbed his back soothingly. 

“That’s okay, it’s okay. I’m not mad or nothing.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“You’ve got it all backwards, sweetheart. Do you think you’re ready to keep walking?” he asked. Davey nodded reluctantly. Jack helped him up and they spent the next almost forty minutes walking there.

“Let me come in with you; just to get you upstairs.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“But-”

“Jack, it’s okay. Thank you for- oh, fuck!”

“What? What is it?”

“You should be selling.”

“That’s not important right now. Don’t worry about that.”

“No, it  _ is _ important! You need to sell.”

“Dave, I’ll sell the evening edition and I have more than enough for a bed and food tonight; just relax, yeah?” 

Davey sighed. 

“Okay.”

“Okay. I’m going to wait here for ten minutes just in case he sends you home, okay?”

“No, it’s all right, I-”

“Stop talking,” he ordered. Davey nodded. He thanked Jack again (profusely and several times) and said goodbye.

“Holy shit, kid,” Walter said as David got into the elevator, “what the hell happened to you?”

“I opened my mouth,” he said simply.

“Ah, well, that’ll do it.” 

David was extremely thankful that nothing else was said for the rest of the ride up. Hannah gasped when he came in. 

“Oh my god! David, honey, sit down.” She practically manhandled him into a chair. “Are you all right? What happened?”

He was so sick of that question.

“I’m fine; late, but fine. I have to go see Mr. Pulitzer.”

“He’s in his meeting downstairs, remember?”

“What? What time is it?” 

He followed her eyes to the big clock on the wall. 

“Four fifteen.”

“I’m in so much trouble, aren’t I?” 

“No, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re not. Tell me what happened?”

“Nothing  _ happened, _ Hannah, I just got into a fight is all.”

“A fight means you fought back. Did you fight back?” He chose not to answer. “That’s what I thought.”

“Still-”

“It wasn’t a fight. Let me get you water or something.”

“I’m fine, thank you though. I should really get to work on-”

“You’ll do no such thing. Did you walk all the way here?” She pressed her hand to his forehead. 

“I had someone with me who helped.”

“You’re a little warm, but no fever. You’re having water, young man.” She went over to the sideboard where the metal pitcher was and poured him a glass. “Have you cleaned your injuries yet?”

“Yes.”

“With what? Drink this.”

“Water and whiskey, and I have bandages before you ask.” The ice cold water felt heavenly in his throat. 

“Whiskey? You’re carrying whiskey around in your bag?” She looked very concerned. 

David laughed.

“No, it’s a friend’s. I was forced to stop and get cleaned up before coming here.”

“Good. Did you break anything?”

“A rib, apparently. They’re bruised which isn’t so bad but one is definitely broken.”

“Oh my lord.”

“It’s fine. I move around less when I’m here than when I’m selling so it’ll probably heal faster.”

“Did-” 

The elevator doors opened. 

“Ah, Jacobs. It’s so nice of you to grace us with your presence,” he said, not doing more than glancing up from the document he was reading.

“I’m sorry, sir. I promise-”

“Look at him!” Hannah demanded. “He’s hurt.” 

Mr. Pulitzer stopped reading and looked up. 

“It’s all right, Hannah, I-”

“What happened?” 

“Nothing, sir. Some of the boys at school roughed me up, that’s all. I’m very sorry I’m late and I promise I got here as quickly as I could.”

“Is that blood?” He pointed to David’s collar. David tried to look but the angle was too weird. 

“Probably. I’m sorry, I know it isn’t professional I just-”

“Nonsense. Why did the other students do this?”

“They…they just don’t like me, sir.”

“He has a broken rib,” Hannah said. “And look at his eye!”

“Hannah, I’m truly fine.” He tried to get away from her concerned hand. “You already felt my forehead.”

“I’ve had a broken rib or two in my day; I remember them hurting like the dickens. Can you breathe?”

“Evidently, sir.”

“Send him home, Joseph.”

“No! No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, David!” she said. “You need a bed, some sleep, and some soup or something like that. Besides, you won’t be able to pay attention.”

“I will!” He turned to face his boss. “Mr. Pulitzer, I promise I’ll be able to pay attention and be productive. I’ve had broken ribs before and I still did all of my schoolwork.”

Pulitzer looked torn and David couldn’t blame him. It wouldn’t look very good if someone knew he let his assistant work after being injured but there were things to do. Besides, on a more personal note, losing the pay would be hard. If he was sent home for this, who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen the next day? Then what was he supposed to do? 

His boss looked at Hannah. 

“If he says he can work, he can work.”

“But-”

“Thank you, sir.”

Hannah threw her hands up in the air with an exasperated expression and went back to her desk muttering. David thought it was about him, Pulitzer, or men in general. 

“Come into my office, David. There are things to be done.”

At six, Hannah came in to say she was going home for the night and gave their boss a glare. He ignored her, for the most part, and went back to his work. The last two nights David had noticed Hannah going home at five, so maybe she stayed in the hopes that he would leave soon too. He also noticed that she told Pulitzer instead of just leaving silently like she had Monday and Tuesday. He was warmed by the thought that she was concerned about him (although she really had no reason to be because David was fine). 

“When’s that dated?” 

David snapped himself out of it and tried to focus. He shuffled through the papers.

“July the eleventh, sir.”

“And yet it isn’t mentioned that he sent that letter before the date in question and not after.”

“No, sir.” 

One thing David had quickly learned about Pulitzer was that he was incredibly involved. He fact checked every front page story himself and had weekly meetings with each of his section editors.

“Make a note of that. All right,” he said, putting his pen down, “we’ll take a short break. Go and get my dinner.” 

“Yes, sir.”

Around six fifteen, a worker from the Pulitzer’s home came with a hot meal for him. David found this astonishing. The worker had laughed when he saw David’s shocked expression for the first time and admitted that he also found it a little ridiculous. When Pulitzer said he worked through dinner David had figured he meant he didn’t eat or he brought a sandwich or something - that was not the case.

He got to the first floor without incident and met the man in the lobby.

“You look terrible,” John said. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. Here.” He took a piece of folded paper out of his pocket and handed it to David.

“What is it?”

“Ms. Pulitzer told me to give it to you.”

“Ah. So she knows, huh?”

“If she hadn’t told me I would have said something besides ‘you look terrible.’” 

“Well, it isn’t inaccurate.” He took the tray. “Thanks, John.”

“See you tomorrow.” 

He took a second in the outer office to look at the note. 

_ Davey, _

_ You’re an idiot. Why on earth would you go to work? I get that you need the money but how are you going to make it if you overexert yourself and end up unable to work at all? Also, I hope you’re okay. I’m sorry this happened. I’m headed over to the lodging house now and I’m sure the boys are going mad too. We love you and want you to be okay. _

_ Love, _

_ Katherine _

David sighed. The sentiment was very nice but Katherine - despite her best efforts, all of which were appreciated - still had no concept of what it was like to need to work to survive. 

He knocked on the door and was told to enter. He did his best not to groan as he put the tray on the desk and sat back down. The walk home was definitely not going to be fun. 

The next thirty minutes were pretty miserable. The work was the same but now he was doing it while smelling hot food - something he desperately wanted. For breakfast he had had half a cup of leftover soup and a slice of bread; for lunch more bread. He knew he was lucky to eat three times a day and many of his friends were not, but that did nothing to stop him from being jealous.

He felt shaky, starving, and exhausted. Hopefully, Sarah would be done with all the patchwork and sewing by the time he got home and he could just do his homework and got to sleep. He knew that that was a selfish thought and he internally retracted it. His sister did so much and for him to wish that she had done more work than usual because of him was wrong.

“Got that, Jacobs?”

“Hmm?” He blushed as he realized what had happened. “I’m sorry, sir, I zoned out for a moment.”

“I’m aware.”

For the next few hours, David did his best to pay attention. At ten forty-five, they finished up for the night. 

“That’s it’s. Go home, Jacobs.”

“Yes, sir.”

It took him ten minutes to walk the first block, which he took as a sign that there was a distinct possibility that by the time he made it home it would be time to get Les up and go to school. 

Three blocks later, he heard his name being called. 

“Jacobs?” 

He turned.

“Mr. Pulitzer? Is everything okay, sir? Did I forget to do something?”

“No. I sent you home over thirty minutes ago.”

“Yes, sir, I’ve just been taking breaks.”

“You’re  _ walking _ home?” Annoyingly, he looked surprised. 

“Yes, sir.”

“I know it’s late but there are taxicabs around here somewhere, I’m sure.”

“There are, but I can’t take one.”

“Why not?”

David shrugged. Pulitzer was smart enough to understand and if he didn’t, then he was even more of an asshole than David had originally thought. His boss didn’t say anything else. 

“If you’d excuse me, sir, I really should get going.” 

“Let me pay for a taxicab.”

“That’s very generous, Mr. Pulitzer, but no thank you.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, sir.”

“But you aren’t paying for it.’

“Yes, sir. Still, I’d be uncomfortable with spending that much.”

“How far do you live?”

“Not far. On a normal day it takes me less than forty minutes to walk home.”

“I see. Well-”

“Davey!” 

David turned to see Jack running up to him.

“Jack? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been in the area for a while, waiting; you need someone to walk you home.”

Pulitzer cleared his throat. Jack smiled at him and tipped his cap obnoxiously.

“Evening, Joe. How’s the business?”

“Not bad, Mr. Kelly. How’s my daughter? You see her more than I do these days.” It was obviously meant to make Jack uncomfortable but had the opposite effect. He laughed. 

“She says hi. Did you fix me a good headline for tomorrow? I know how much you worry about me.”

“That isn’t quite the word I would use, but yes, it should be decent.”

“Great. Mind if I steal your assistant? He’s got a hot date with his pillow that he‘s already late for.”

“Jack,” David groaned. 

“By all means. Good night, Jacobs, Mr. Kelly.”

“Good night, sir.”

“See ya, Joe.” 

Pulitzer kept walking and Davey leaned into Jack as they began the journey home. 

“Seriously, Jack? Was all that necessary?”

“Yes. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Dave.”

“Horrible.”

“There we go.”

“Everything hurts and I’m hungry and I’m just so tired, Jacky.”

Jack frowned at him.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. How long were you waiting for me?”

Jack shrugged. 

“Not too long.”

“Jack.”

“Couple of hours,” he admitted.

“Jack, you shouldn’t have done that. You need your sleep too.”

“Of course I should have,” Jack said. “I’ll do anything for my fella.” He looked around and no one was on the street. He kissed Davey’s temple. Davey sighed happily and sunk into.

“Thanks. Where did you come from, anyway?”

“I was around the corner talking to Georgie. He says you walked him home last night?”

“Georgie! Okay, I knew that at some point. Yeah, it was almost midnight and he was out all alone.”

“And you bought three of his papes?” He asked. Davey shrugged. “You’re a gem.”

They walked quietly for a while. Davey loved that he and Jack could enjoy each other’s company even without conversation.

He could feel his energy flagging and after about fifteen minutes he felt like he might collapse.

“Jack, Jacky, can we please stop? Just for a minute?”

“Sure. I know this street; let's go in that alley up ahead, okay? Can you make it that far?” He received a nod but Davey wasn’t actually sure if he could. By the time they sat down, he was in agony. The world around him became blurry and he realized he was crying. 

“Come here.” Jack pulled Davey’s head down to rest on his shoulder and rubbed his arm. “You’re gonna be all right, Dave, I promise. Don’t worry.”

“I’m so tired, Jacky,” he whispered. “I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep, baby. I’ll wake you in a little while.”

Davey shook his head. 

“No, if I sleep now I won’t be able to get up.”

“I can carry you?”

Davey snorted, still crying. 

“I don’t think you could carry me more than ten feet on a good day.”

“I resent that remark. What can I do for you, Dave?”

“Nothing. Just…stay with me?”

“I’m not ever leaving you, baby; not ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. Come say hi or send me prompts on tumblr! @JewishDavidJacobs


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David’s starting to realize that life isn’t going to look the same anymore.

“That’s not your name.”

“Hmm?”

David looked up from his desk. Pulitzer had been standing there for a minute or two, supervising him as he filled out documents. It was annoying. To be fair, if he did this incorrectly it was very likely that  _ The World _ would be without an actual paper to publish the next day and David had never done it before. It seemed silly to him that the publisher had to sign these approval forms every single day, but better safe than sorry, he guessed. He would rather have to do this once a day than something be messed up and, in turn, cause his friends to have a bad selling day.

It felt like every little thing he screwed up could have massive impact. On Monday, Pulitzer had talked him through all of his duties and what would happen if he failed to fulfill them adequately. David was sure that most of what he said was an exaggeration but he had no way of knowing what was true and what was embellished.

“This.” Pulitzer picked up and showed him the papers on the edge of his desk. “Your name isn’t William.”

“Oh. Uh, no, sir.”

“Whose is it?”

“William’s.”

“Jacobs.”

“Just a classmate, sir.”

“And why do you have his paper?” he asked with an accusatory tone. 

“I’m just…I’m helping him edit it, sir.” 

“When I was at St. George’s that wasn’t allowed.”

David swallowed nervously. He had to decide which was worse: being accused of cheating off of someone or admitting that he gave into school bullies so easily.

“Yes, well-”

“Are you cheating, Jacobs?”

“No, sir. Here, look.” He picked up and handed him his own paper. “See? They’re not the same. I promise, I would never copy-”

“I didn’t think you would copy off of anyone but that wasn’t the question I asked you. Did you cheat? Are you helping this boy?” 

“Sir, I-”

“It’s your handwriting.”

“Leave him alone, Joseph,” Hannah told him without looking up from her work.

“I will  _ not. _ Tell me: why are you writing this boy’s paper for him? Is he your friend?”

“No! Definitely not, sir.” The thought was laughable. “No, he just…needed me to.”

“And why is that?”

“He’s sick, sir. Too sick to work.” 

“Surely if that were the case your instructor would understand, hmm?” 

David was a pretty bad liar. If he knew the questions he was going to be asked he was fine, which was how he got by at home. In situations like this, however, he knew his voice was uneven and that he was entirely too obvious. 

Hannah came over to hopefully save him. She took the papers out of Pulitzer’s hand and he gave her his attention. 

“Look at him and tell me why you think he’s writing the paper.” She gestured to David. He would have preferred her to have said literally anything else. David really liked that she was so casual with their boss (he had never heard anyone besides Jack call him by his first name before) and that she put him in his place but in this particular moment, he would have liked her to leave it be. 

Pulitzer stared at him and sighed with a shake of his head. 

“This isn’t how you get people to leave you alone.”

“I know, sir.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I really didn’t have an option. They would have soaked - sorry, hurt me otherwise.”

“They  _ did _ hurt you,” he pointed out in a tone that suggested that David was a bit dimwitted. 

“No, sir, this was on Monday.” 

Pulitzer remained quiet for a moment and David sat anxiously awaiting judgement. Would he tell the school? David could already see the look of anger on Ima’s face and the one of resigned disappointment on Aba’s. 

Hannah rolled her eyes and went back to her desk, obviously exasperated with their boss’ rigidity and lack of understanding.

“Don’t let me see it happening again,” he ruled. 

“Yes, sir,” David said gratefully. 

That evening, sitting in Pulitzer’s office and taking notes on a phone call he was definitely not supposed to be sitting in on, David remembered something. He needed to talk to his boss about Friday (he probably should have done so before Thursday night but that was beside the point). 

Pulitzer hung up the phone with a sigh. 

“You’re done for the night; go home.” 

“Thank you. Sir?”

“What is it?” 

“Well, tomorrow is Friday.”

“I’m aware, thank you for the update. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Umm…” Everything David had planned on saying flew out of his head. It was almost funny how in the course of two months he could go from calling the man a fool to being terrified to ask him a question.

“Spit it out.”

“It’s just that it’s Shabbat, sir. I meant to mention it to you on Monday but-”

“Right. You can leave at five-thirty tomorrow and we’ll figure something out for when the days get shorter.”

David breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you, sir, I-”

“So you can’t be here on Saturday either? You neglected to mention that.”

“To be fair, Mr. Pulitzer, I wasn’t really given a change to. And you basically told me I was taking the job.” 

David could have sworn that Pulitzer was suppressing a grin. He seemed to occasionally like David’s obnoxious answers. 

“I work from home on Sundays. You can come at nine.”

“Oh, I-”

“Jacobs.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Yes. Go home.”

“Good night, sir.” 

He had an internal debate while he gathered his things from his desk. He supposed it was fair that he would be expected to work on Sundays, but he was stupid enough not to have considered it.

In theory, it was fine; good, even. He had another day of guaranteed pay that surpassed what he had been earning as a newsie. On the other hand, if he was able to remain a newsie at all it would only be for one edition a week. If someone had asked David two and a half months ago, right after his father was injured, if he would be sad to stop selling papers, he wouldn’t have hesitated before saying no, but being a newsie had become part of his identity. It was how he made all of his friends and how he achieved the thing in life that he was most proud of. And there was no way he would be allowed to keep his role in the union now. Hell, David would be lucky if he was even allowed to remain a member. 

And then there was Jack. The best part of his week was when one of the other kids took Les and he and Jack got time alone to sell. It made him feel more alive than anything else and now that was gone. True, Jack still sold every edition (he said he had no regrets about not taking the job Pulitzer offered but his eyes were always shining with exhaustion) and it was likely they could sell together Sunday evenings. Les would still want a chance to sell with him though and there went any time alone with Jack. Would he even be able to keep stepping out with him?

Was that even what they were doing? Was it possible that they weren’t exclusive? These were things he could bring up to Jack if he had time alone with him. 

When he got outside, Race was standing there, because of course he was. Of course Jack had felt the need to send someone to escort him home like he was a child. Davey sighed. 

“Hi.”

“Why so glum, sugarplum?” Race asked, grinning impishly. Davey glared at him to let him know it was in no way appreciated. Race rolled his eyes. “You have a broken rib, you really think we would let you walk home by yourself?”

“How long have you been standing here?”

“Don’t know,” Race said with a shrug, “but a while. Boy, Pulitzer really tries to milk every second out of a day.”

“Tell me about it. Look, I’m sorry that Jack made you-”

“Excuse me?” Race looked a little offended. “Do you think I’m just here because the cowboy sent me?”

“I-”

“I care about you too, dumbass; we all do. It was a mutual agreement to take turns bringing you home.”

Davey cringed at his faux pas. He had to get better about that sort of thing. His friends got very upset at the implication that they weren’t there for each other at all times. Davey had felt the same way the week before when Pulitzer assumed he had received his black eye in a fight with another newsie.

Many of the newsies had no family besides each other and took insulting their dedication to their found family as a great affront. Davey often had trouble remembering they included him in that. It was touching beyond belief and he loved them all dearly.

He hoped they would still love him when he stopped selling all together. He hoped the Sunday evening edition was enough to keep his friends.

“Sorry, Race. I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he said sharply and then softened considerably, “but that’s okay. Come on, Davey, you look exhausted. Let’s get you home.” He approached Davey and tried to take his arm around his own shoulders. Davey jerked back.

“I can walk on my own. I walked here, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did; that was very stupid.”

Davey snorted just a little bit. 

“It wasn’t-”

“If you can walk a block without a classic Jacobs grimace then I‘ll leave it alone.” 

He gave Race a confused look.

“A classic Jacobs grimace?”

“You’re always grimacing when you see us being stupid.”

“Oh, so you see it a lot?”

“If you didn’t already have a black eye, I’d give you one.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Davey made it less than ten yards before he almost fell. Race caught him and placed his arm around his shoulders.

“Easy, Mouth, I gotcha.”

Davey started coughing which only made things worse. Race rubbed his back in circles. When he finally figured out how to breathe again, his eyes were watery.

“Sorry.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Sure,” Race said sarcastically. 

They walked in silence for a while as Davey focused on his breathing.

“You’re gonna sell on Sunday, right?” Race eventually asked. 

Davey cringed internally. He was really hoping he could have put off this conversation with any of the newsies. At least it was only Race. Race was loyal to a fault and had never been anything but kind to him.

When Davey first started selling, it took him a while to get used to the way the other kids ribbed each other. He had never had friends before and so he thought they were making fun of him for the sake of it and not out of affection. He and Sarah did the same thing all the time but he had figured it was different with siblings.

Race seemed to have noticed this and, once he did, he was gentle with his teasing and whenever someone said something to Davey that could have been construed as rude, Race made sure to stand next to him and casually whisper that it was only a joke. It was better now, and Davey himself participated in it, but he would always be grateful for Race’s kindness.

Maybe that meant that he would be supportive now. After all, he was one of the kids who was originally supportive of him taking the job with Pulitzer. 

“Uh, I’ll probably sell the evening edition but Pulitzer is insisting I work on Sundays because I can’t work Saturdays.”

“Oh.” Race sounded odd. Davey wasn’t sure if it was because he was hurt or if he was just surprised.

“I’m sorry. I…it’s getting darker out earlier now so I’ll be able to sell the evening edition on Saturdays soon too.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Race…”

“Davey, it’s fine. I get that you gotta do what’s best for you but there’s been some talk.”

“Talk?”

“About you.”

Davey’s anxiety was quickly increasing. 

“What about me?”

“That if you’re only selling a few times a week that maybe you can’t be our vice president.” 

“Oh.”

He should have seen it coming - he had, in fact - but it still hurt like hell to hear that the kids were already discussing it. Was Jack involved?

“And now with it only being once or twice…I don’t think it, by the way.”

“You don’t?”

“Nah. You’re the best chance we got with the uppity folks,” he said. Davey scoffed and rolled his eyes. “And now that you work for Pulitzer for real, you can get us taken seriously more but…some of the others, they think that it’ll make things worse because you can’t fight for us if it’s against your boss.”

“I can! I’ll always fight for you guys - for us.”

“I know that and it’s what I’ve been saying but most of them aren’t buying it.”

“Most of them?”

Race shrugged. 

“Yesterday I told ‘em that you’re the only guy we got who talks smart enough to represent us. Cause Jack can fight, sure, but not everyone is gonna listen when he yells and we can’t strike every time we’re treated like shit.”

“We’d be striking every day.”

“Exactly. You’re diplomatic,” he said, the last word carefully pronounced, “and they’re blind if they can’t see that.”

Davey gave him a small smile.

“Thanks, Race. Out of curiosity, do they have anyone in mind? To replace me?” he asked. Race looked worried and guilty. “Race?”

“Me.”

“Oh.”

That made sense. Race was smart as a whip and could talk his way out of anything. Plus, he had been Jack’s second for a long time. Davey was second in command of the union but Race filled that role when it came to non-union related issues. In fact, Davey had been worried that he was overstepping until Race pulled him aside and told him to stop being stupid. He was incredibly perceptive and Davey always marveled at his emotional intelligence.

“I’m sorry, Mouth. I’m gonna refuse, I swear. I already told them that they can’t make me.”

“No, if they oust me then you should do it.”

“But, I don’t wanna make-”

“Race, you have to do what’s best for the union.”

“Plenty of other people could do a better job than me.”

“No, they can’t. I’m not trying to put anyone down, I’m just saying that you’re really smart and capable.”

Race laughed. 

“What? Pfft. You’re stupider than I thought.”

“Why don’t you think that? You’re one of the smartest guys I know.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not. I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“I don’t think you’re lying, I think you’re wrong. You go to school with all those smart fellas; they’re smarter than me.”

Davey shook his head.

“They’re really not. If you got to go you’d knock all those guys down on the class roster. I’d love to see that, actually.”

“Dave, that’s nice and all but I never went to school. Reading is the only academic skill I have.”

“That’s not true. Your vocabulary is excellent; your math skills are freakish; and your knowledge of politics and current events is almost scary, just to name a few. I’m not trying to sound patronizing or condescending, I just think you should know how smart you really are.”

“I don’t think you’re being either of those things, but you can do all that too.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been going to school for over a decade. Without an education I wouldn’t know half of what you know.”

“Whatever,” Race said dismissively.

“We don’t have to talk about if you don’t want, but-”

“Then let’s not,” he replied with a tone that left no room for further discussion. 

“Okay.”

They stopped talking for a few more minutes but then Race sighed.

“It should be you though.”

Davey shrugged.

“It might not be anymore.”

“But-”

“I appreciate your support - seriously, I do - but the union is about having a say and if they want me gone that’s their right. If I’m still allowed a spot in the union at all then you have my vote for vice president.”

Race smiled at him halfheartedly. 

“Thanks, Dave. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Katherine went with him to pick up his suit the next day. She was delighted to see it when he tried it on and he had to admit that it was a good look for him. Davey had never seen himself as particularly handsome but he felt it when he looked in the mirror (minus the fading black eye). He changed and the tailor put it in a protective bag before he left. 

“You  _ have _ to wear it in front of Jack,” Katherine said as they walked arm and arm back to his school. 

“Why?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“You know why. He’s going to die when he sees how handsome you look, Davey.”

“Thanks.” Davey blushed. “Yeah, I’m sure I’ll see him when I’m in it at some point soon.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Day before yesterday.”

“So when-”

“Yeah.”

“Well, your eye looks much better than JoJo told me it did.”

“It’s definitely better than it was that first day. At this rate it should be gone completely by Sunday.”

“That’s really fast.”

“I heal quickly; always have. It makes Sarah crazy. When we were kids, she could get a paper cut and I could break a bone and I’d be running around before her cut was healed.”

Katherine chuckled. 

“My sister is like that and it drives my brother up the wall, so I can understand. Are you going to be all right back in school?”

Davey knew what she meant. He nodded. 

“My teacher told me I could leave it in his office until the end of the day and he’s going to walk me a couple of blocks so the guys don’t follow me.”

“That’s really nice.”

“Yeah, he’s the best.”

“So…”

“So what?”

She rolled her eyes as if what she was asking was obvious. 

“So what did your parents say the other night when they saw you?”

David sighed. It had not gone over very well.

“I told them I got mugged on my way home.”

“Did they believe it? Your injuries were already hours old,” she pointed out. 

“Yeah, but fortunately they take what I say at face value when it comes to this. They might know I’m lying but they don’t want to know the truth. My mother blamed it on my job and how it keeps me so late and I pointed out that I was sometimes out selling until midnight but she wouldn’t hear it.” 

Katherine rubbed his arm with a frown. 

“I’m sorry, Davey. I’m sure they’ll get used to it.”

He shrugged. 

“I think my father’s coming around but my mother can be pretty stubborn. We’ll see what happens.” 

They made idle chitchat until they reached Davey’s school. She kissed his cheek goodbye and he snuck back in the side door. 

Luckily, class was going on so there was nobody in the hallways to stop him. He knocked on Mr. Parker’s door. 

“Come in.” 

“Mr. Parker?”

“David, hi.” He smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, sir, how are you?” 

“I’m well.”

“Thanks for letting me leave this here,” he said. “I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.” 

Mr. Parked gestured for the seat in front of his desk and David took it. 

“Anytime. How are you, David? And I mean actually.” 

“I’m…fine. Is something the matter?” 

Mr. Parker sighed and pointed at his own eye to indicate what he meant. Usually, he left that kind of thing alone so it surprised David that he would bring it up. 

“It’s all right. It doesn’t hurt that much anymore and it’ll probably be gone by Monday.” 

“David, you have an office job, now. You can’t constantly have injuries on your face.”

That hurt. Mr. Parker was the only adult in the school that David could rely on not to blame him for getting soaked. It was hardly fair and in the past Mr. Parker had agreed.

“It’s not really my fault.”

“I know you don’t ask to get into fights but you don’t stop them either.”

“Stop them? With what? If I retaliate I’ll get kicked out of school. It wouldn’t matter anyway, because there’s only one of me.”

“You can’t antagonize them.”

“I don’t.”

“That’s not the story I heard.” 

David blanched. 

“Do you mean the other morning?” Mr. Parker nodded. “That’s the first time I’ve done that in years.”

“You shouldn’t do it at all.”

“Sir, I didn’t antagonize anybody!” He was probably being more passionate than was appropriate but he was not about to let this man who he respected so much believe that about him. “William and his friends come up to me every morning and say whatever they want. They call me things that my mother would wash my mouth out for and often they do it while they’re hitting me. And they do all of it in front of whoever is around. How am I supposed to get them to stop when they have about a hundred other students who are either on their side or don’t care? I try, sir, I try so hard and nothing works. The other day they were making fun of me and my friends and all I did was say that they didn’t know what it was like to work for a living - which is true! They told me they were going to- you know what?” David cut himself off and took a deep breath. He could tell that nothing he said was going to make any difference and he wasn’t in the mood to justify himself. “This doesn’t matter. I’m sorry to waste your time with my rambling, sir, I know that it doesn’t change anything.” 

“David-”

“It’s fine, sir,” he assured with a watery smile, “I’m sorry I said anything; I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I’m just going to take this and go.” He picked up his suit.

“David-”

“No, sir, that’s all right. I really am grateful for you letting me keep it here but I…anyway, I’m going to go. Oh.” He realized something and shuffled through his bag for his history assignment. He laid it down on Mr. Parker’s desk. “Here’s my homework. I’m sorry I won’t be in class; I’ll take the failing grade for the day. I have to-”

“David!” Mr. Parker interrupted and stood from his seat. “Stop it. You’re not leaving and it’s going-”

“I really am, sir.”

He left the office with his bag and his suit, Mr. Parker’s voice trailing after him. By the time he realized what he had done he was halfway to the lodging house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure about this chapter but I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think! Come say hi or leave me a prompt on tumblr (@JewishDavidJacobs).


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot makes an appearance, Hannah is the greatest, and it’s possibly the longest day of David’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence and antisemitism/  
> antisemitic terms.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Better question: what the fuck are  _ you  _ doing here?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“It’s good to see you too, Spot. Now can you move, please?” 

Spot got out of his way and let Davey inside the lodging house. He carefully dropped his bags on the couch and turned around to see that Spot was still staring at him. 

“What?” 

“Who soaked you?”

“Just some kids from school,” Davey replied dismissively. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the day. Shouldn’t you be in Brooklyn selling?”

“Shouldn’t you be in school learning?”

“Spot.”

“Just union business; don’t worry about it.” 

“I’m the Manhattan chapter’s vice president. Don’t I have a right to know what’s going on?” he asked. 

“Look, this isn’t a discussion I’m having with you. Why did they soak you?”

“This isn’t a discussion I’m having you with.”

“Copying? Real mature, Mouth.” 

Davey huffed and leaned back against the arm of the couch with his arms crossed. 

“It’s been a day. It’s been a week, actually.” 

“I can see that.” Spot rocked on his feet as they stood awkwardly for a moment. “Want to talk about it?”

Davey looked at him. 

“What? God, no.”

Spot threw his hands up.

“I’m just offering.”

_ “You _ want me to talk about it?  _ You  _ want me to talk about my feelings?” 

“Hey! I can be nice.” 

“To your kids and Racetrack. In my experience, that’s about it.” 

Spot sighed. 

“I’m not always a dick, Jacobs.” 

Davey flinched. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, your name?”

“My name is David,” he said sternly. “I’d love it if people could start fucking calling me by my name - or at least Davey.”

“I-”

“Out there I’m Jacobs, in here I’m Davey, okay?” He was yelling now but he really wasn’t sure why. Spot hadn’t done anything wrong. “When I’m outside or I’m not selling I’m Jacobs or boy or, or, or fucking yid-”

“Woah!”

“But not here! Here, I’m a fucking person and I’m not an idiot. I’m not sure what it has to do with Brooklyn but I’m not an idiot and I know the meeting was about replacing me. It would be nice if the president could tell me about it himself but he hasn’t so you’re who I’m asking.”

“Davey, I-”

“What, am I not allowed at meetings anymore either?”

“No! It isn’t like that.”

“Then why are you here? What’s it got to do with you?” 

Spot sighed and stepped away from the door and towards him. Davey held up a hand to stop him. 

“Look, when there’s meetings with all the boroughs it’s…it’s probably not gonna go over well if you’re gone.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re Davey Jacobs - the walking mouth.” Spot shrugged. “We know what you did for us.”

“It wasn’t just-”

“I know and so do they.”

“So I’m gone anyway? Was I ever going to be told or was the door just going to be locked at the next meeting?” 

“It’s not official and it’s not my place to-”

“Exactly! Fucking Brooklyn gets told before I do. I’ll ask Jack about it but I should wait until after his meeting with the Bronx, right? And hey, what does Queens think?”

Spot rolled his eyes.

“Stop being dramatic, Mouth.”

“I said my name’s Davey!” he exploded, slamming his open palm down on the arm of the couch. “God, can you not remember that from two minutes ago? Or do you not care like everybody else?”

“We care about you, Davey.” 

Davey scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Clearly. I’m sure that’s what the meeting was all about: caring for me.” He felt a sick sense of satisfaction at the guilty look on Spot’s face. This was the King of Brooklyn and he got him to look that way.

“I’m…Davey, I’m not the one who made the decision.” 

“No, my friends were. But you approve of it, don’t you?” Spot didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought. When’s the vote, huh? Or did it already happen? Were you there? How quick did my brother decide I wasn’t good enough?”

“Calm the fuck down! Jesus, you’re dramatic. There hasn’t been a fucking vote and if you actually think so little of your brother that you think he would do that to do then maybe you  _ aren’t _ good enough.”

“I know that! You think I don’t know that? I know Les deserves better - so does everybody else! But don’t I deserve honesty?”

“Don’t be an idiot. Kelly loves you, and he wouldn’t-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Spot rolled his eyes. 

“Please. Let’s not do this, yeah? I know about you and Jack and you know about me and Racer; pretending is pointless.” Davey nodded. “Good. Kelly loves you and he ain’t happy about any of this. Now, I’m gonna go and let you talk to him.” Spot turned towards the door and Davey didn’t say anything. Halfway out, he turned back and said, “And by the way, what the hell did you think was gonna happen? You work for the guy who we’re constantly battling and who put Crutchie in the fucking Refuge. Fuck you if you think you’ve got the moral high ground.”

Davey dropped down onto the couch and stewed in his frustration. Angry tears escaped his eyes though he tried his best to force them away. It took him almost ten minutes to calm down.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Davey heard Jack say as he and Race clambered down the stairs.

“You’ve heard stupider. Oh, hey, Davey.”

“Dave! What are you doing here?” Jack asked innocently. 

Davey glared at him and spat, “Am I not welcome here anymore?”

Jack’s face fell. 

“What?”

“I asked if I’m not welcome here. Are you going to answer or do you need to consult the other boroughs first?”

Jack blanched and came and sat next to him. He tried to put his arms around him but Davey jerked away. 

“What’s going on?”

“You’re replacing me.” He had intended to sound angry but it came out as devastated. 

“I’m not.”

Davey glared. 

“I’m not, sweetheart, I promise.” 

Davey instinctively looked to Race but if Spot knew it was likely he did too. 

“Does he-”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’re wrong!” he yelled, back to being angry. “You  _ are _ replacing me! That’s why Spot was just here!”

“Dave, you don’t sell anymore!”

“Yes, I do!”

“Not enough! Look, I don’t like it either and I know how you must be feeling-”

“But you don’t know!”

“I-”

“You have no way of knowing!” He stood up and his fists were clenched. “This is the one place I go where people aren’t constantly mad at me! My parents, my classmates, even Sarah and Les have been taking it in turns! And I’m alone at work! I know you guys have it hard, I know that, but I’m so fucking alone right now and you’re taking away the one thing that makes me feel better! Are you going to even invite me to meetings anymore?” Race and Jack shared an uncomfortable look. “Great!” Davey slammed himself back down onto the couch and slapped his hand to his leg. “Fantastic!”

“Dave-”

“No! Don’t start! Fuck you for not telling me earlier, Jack Kelly! And you, Race!” He turned to him. “You told him about Sundays?”

“I…I wasn’t sure if you were going to and-”

“Well, it’s not your business!”

“Hey, be pissed at me all you want but don’t be pissed at him,” Jack said. “He didn’t do nothing wrong.”

“He told you-”

“Yeah, and it affected the decision we we’re making so-”

“Did you have a union meeting that I didn’t know about? Because clearly everybody knows about this except me.” 

“We didn’t want you to have to sit through it.”

“Whose idea was it?” he demanded to know. 

“All of ours,” Race said. “We all thought we should talk about it.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not!”

“Somebody had to say it first!” 

Jack shot up out of his seat. 

“All right, enough! Jesus Christ, Dave, it was me.”

Davey just stared, his mouth hanging open, not quite processing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Race leave the room and go back upstairs.

“It…what?”

“It was me.”

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t think you should be vice president anymore.”

Davey had cried more in the last two weeks than he had in the previous year. It made him feel weak, especially in front of the newsies, none of whom he had ever seen cry. But who cared now, right? If they were going to cut him out and not speak to him anymore then he might as well cry.

He let out an ugly sob and Jack immediately gathered him into his arms. Davey wanted equally for Jack to get off of him and for him to hold him tighter. 

“I thought you loved me. You told me you loved me.”

“I  _ do  _ love you, Davey, I swear. I only think it because you don’t need to be stressing about us when you’ve got so much other stuff going on.”

“But I can handle it!”

“I know, baby,” Jack soothed, “but you shouldn't have to. One way or another you’ll be put in a hard position at work eventually.”

_ “Please,  _ Jack. Please don’t kick me out of the union.”

“I’m not kicking you out.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said. I won’t force you out but I think it’s for the best that you leave.”

“You want me gone?”

“Not from here! I’m not replacing you in my  _ life.  _ Dave, if I had it my way, we’d never spend a second apart.”

“Except for when you have union meetings,” Davey spat and yanked himself away. “Fuck you, Jack. You’re pushing me out of a union that you only have because of me.” Davey rarely liked to give himself much credit for the strike but he  _ had  _ been the one to explain that they needed a union and to help form it. He didn’t mean to sound so full of himself but he was grasping at straws. “Fuck you for making me think I was one of you and then taking it away.”

“You  _ are  _ one of us!”

“Not if you’re thinking like this, I’m not. Everyone was upset because they thought me working for Pulitzer would mean I abandoned them or the union but it turns out you’re the ones abandoning me.”

“Nobody is abandoning anybody, Dave. You’re still gonna sell when you can, right?” 

Davey huffed at him. He stood up and grabbed his bags.

“If I’m not allowed in the union then I’m a scab, aren’t I? No thanks. I know what the guys want to do to scabs and I get more than enough of that at school.”

“Davey! You’re not-”

He refused to let Jack finish. 

“Which, by the way, I’m pretty sure I’m about to get kicked out of.” He slammed the door open and made for the outside. He heard Jack coming up behind him.

Just down the street and approaching the building were Mike, Finch, Romeo, and Mush. They sped up when Davey and Jack emerged.

“What’s going on?” Specs yelled as they ran. 

Davey let them come to a stop before answering, “I’m just getting updated on the union.” They all looked nervous. Davey scoffed and rolled his eyes, more angry tears falling. “I know when I’m not wanted, so I’ll see you guys around.”

“Davey!” Jack yelled. “Stop! Just wait a goddamn minute!” 

“Fuck you for thinking I would ever not fight for the newsies no matter what it meant for me at work!”

“That’s not what I-”

“And I’ve said it a lot but I’ll say it again, fuck you. Fuck you for telling Spot fucking Conlon before me!” 

“Woah, not okay, Jack,” Finch said. 

“You’re not helping.”

“No! If this is about the union then they get to have a say! But no, Jack fucking Kelly always needs to get his way. Well, guess what? You’ve got it. I’ll get out of your hair and you won’t have to see me anymore.” 

“Davey, please!”

He ignored his friends’ protests as he walked away. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he ended up in front of the office building. The walk had seemed to take less than five minutes. Why was he here? Why was his first instinct to come here right after he had just fucked everything up? Maybe his subconscious knew that he needed a distraction and that work could be it. 

Work would stop him from thinking about the man he loved telling him that he was the one who had proposed ousting him from his position. Work would stop him from thinking about how he was probably going to be kicked out of school. Work would stop him from thinking about his parents being angry at him for trying to help. Work would stop him from thinking about how his brother felt betrayed and how his sister didn’t respect him. Work would stop him from thinking about all of it. 

He got changed into his suit in the bathroom and headed upstairs. He climbed the nineteen flights just to avoid speaking in the elevator, and startled Hannah when he opened the door. 

“Oh!” She spun in her chair and looked at him. “Well, don’t you look nice? What are you doing here?” 

He rubbed his eyes and put his bags down.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. 

“David, honey, are you crying? Would you like a handkerchief?” She came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

David shook his head.

“No thanks. I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“But I am,” he assured, still quiet but with conviction. “Is he in?”

“Yes, but-”

“Okay. I’m going to see what he needs.”

“David-”

“If you’d excuse me.” 

She sighed but got out of his way. David nodded stiffly and knocked on the door.

“Hannah, is there- oh. Jacobs, what are you doing here?” he asked, putting down his pen. David closed the door behind him. 

“I’m here to work.”

“You’re supposed to be in school right now.”

“School ended five minutes ago.” 

“You can’t get here in five minutes.”

“I’m here though, and I’m ready to work.”

“Jacobs-”

“Please, Mr. Pulitzer. I know I’ve caused you a lot of problems already this week but, please, don’t make me talk about it,” he begged. 

Pulitzer looked him up and down. 

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Then fine. Here.” He handed David a folder. “Bring this down to Harper Smith on the fifteenth floor.”

“Yes, sir.”

He took the stairs again and used the time to try and compose himself. He took deep breaths and stood for a moment with his back against the wall before entering the main area. It wasn’t a floor he had been on before. It was a writers’ bullpen and surprisingly loud.

“Excuse me, sir?” He caught the attention of a man walking by. “Could you point me to Harper Smith?”

“Back office on the right,” he said, gesturing with the papers he was holding. 

“Thank you.” 

David somehow navigated the crowded bullpen without bumping into anyone and made it back to one of only three offices attached to it. He knocked. 

“Come on in.”

“Mr. Smith, I’ve-” David froze. There were two people in the room. The man behind the desk, who he assumed was Harper Smith, and a teenage boy who David recognized as his classmate William. As if the day hadn’t already been terrible. William turned around. 

“Yes?” Mr. Smith said. “Are you all right?” 

David shook himself out of it. 

“Um, yes, sir. I’ve got these papers from Mr. Pulitzer.” 

“Ah. Give them here. You must be his new assistant, yes? What’s your name then, son?” 

He tried his best to ignore William’s evil smile as he handed the folder to Mr. Smith.

“Yes. David Jacobs, sir.” 

“Nice to meet you, David. This is my son, William.”

“Oh, I know David, Father.”

“You do?” Mr. Smith sounded delighted. “Well isn’t that wonderful? How do you know each other?” 

“David is in my year at St. George’s.”

“Really? That’s excellent.” 

“Yes, sir,” David said. “If you’d excuse me, I have to get back to Mr. Pulitzer.” 

“Of course. Nice to meet you, son,” he said. 

“You as well, sir.”

“I’ll walk you back, David,” William said, standing and clapping him on the shoulder. 

David didn’t see a way he could say no so he nodded hesitantly. He should have gone to the elevators - he knew that logically - but his feet led him to the stairwell. Once they were out of view of the door, William sneered. “Got yourself a new job, huh?”

“William, I really have to-”

“You didn’t give me my paper. I said Thursday and it’s Friday. Where is it, Jacobs?”

“I’m…I’m working on it. He extended the deadline and it’s not due until Tuesday. I’ll give it to you on Monday.”

“Fine, but if it doesn’t get me at a B plus, you’re dead meat.” He poked David hard in the sternum. 

He was so sick of this. William pushed him around at school, but he didn’t get to do it here. David would not let this be another place he was afraid to go. 

“I’ll have it for you on Monday but don’t threaten me. We’re not on school grounds and you’re all alone. I’m bigger and stronger than you and if you get hurt, Pulitzer will believe me if I told him you fell down the stairs.” While that was all technically true, David couldn’t see himself ever doing it. William didn’t need to know that though.

William chuckled darkly. 

“That’s cute, yid.”

“Careful. I’m not the only Jew in the building and not everyone will put up with it like I do.”

“You’re the only one in this stairwell.”

“I know - alone with your worst fear.”

William rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not afraid of Jews.”

“No? You seem to hate us a lot for someone who isn’t afraid.”

“Is that a threat? What could you possibly do to me?”

David shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Nothing. We’re already doing the thing that people like you hate most.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

“Existing.” David had never pushed on this front before. He had never used someone’s hatred like this but he had to admit it was a little bit satisfying to see the anger on William’s face.

“Show some respect, Jacobs.”

“For  _ what?” _

“For your superiors,” William said haughtily. 

“And that’s supposed to be you?”

“Yeah. One day I’ll be your boss or your landlord or your government official, while you’re still working for pennies.”

“Wait, I’m confused, do I run the world or not?” He was definitely pushing his luck but he didn’t care anymore. Mr. Parker was going to think he was antagonizing no matter what so why not do it? He was going to get hurt anyway. 

“Shut the fuck up, yid.”

“Oh, come on, William,” he said, his demeanor shifting into one that reminded him of Jack, “you can be more creative than that.”

“I’m warning you!”

“That’s very kind of-” 

David crumpled to the ground and felt his hands fly up to his nose. Distantly, he heard a yell of pain that his confused brain thought might have been William. Everything was silent for a moment and then there were voices around him. He tried his best to open his eyes as his name was called. 

“David. David, open your eyes, sweetheart.”

“H’nah?” he asked. 

“Yeah, honey, it’s me. Open your eyes.” 

He cracked them open slowly and kept them squinted. The light streaming in from the main room hurt. 

“What happened?” 

“That boy punched you and you hit your head on the banister,” she explained. “Here.” Hannah gently pressed a damp towel into his hands. David took it from her and groaned. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah. Where is he?”

“Who?”

“William. The boy.”

“His father took him home.” She combed her fingers through his hair and he sunk into it, exhausted. 

“Does Mr. Pulitzer know?” 

“I do.” 

David looked up quickly and regretted it right away. His brain felt like it was pounding against his skull. He groaned again. 

“Sorry, sir. I promise I didn’t mean it to happen.”

“You know, I’ve seen more injuries in the last week than I have since I was in the army and all of them have been on you.” 

David chuckled. 

“I’ve been told I have an aptitude for it.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, I swear. It was the usual: he threatens me, I ask him to stop, he makes fun of me and calls me horrible things, I ask him to stop, he hits me.” David shrugged. “An average David Jacobs weekday.” 

“Let’s get you upstairs,” Hannah said. “There’s a doctor coming to look at you.” 

“What? No! No doctors.” He allowed Hannah to help him stand. 

“Why not?” she demanded. 

“I don’t do doctors.”

“You’re one of those people?”

David rolled his eyes. 

“I  _ believe  _ in doctors, I just don’t use them.”

“You do now,” Pulitzer told him. “Come on, we’re taking the elevator.”

“I can walk.”

“Are you always this stubborn?” Hannah asked. 

“Depends on my mood.”

Upstairs, she made him sit at his desk and wait for the doctor. 

“He shouldn’t be more than five more minutes.”

“Really? How long was I out? It seemed like thirty seconds.”

“It was about ten minutes.”

“Oh.”

“Hence the doctor.”

“Is he mad?” David changed the subject and gestured to the closed door. 

“Not at you.”

“I don't think he likes me.”

“He doesn’t like anybody.”

“He likes you.” 

Hannah perched on his desk and sighed. 

“I don’t think he dislikes you, David, I think he doesn’t know how to feel.”

“Why? What’s so complicated?”

“Your friend Jack?” David cringed at his name. “He hates him because he’s easy to hate.”

“Hey!”

“I don’t mean it like  _ that.  _ Don’t tell Mr. Pulitzer I said this, but I like Jack a lot. He just hates him because of the strike.”

“So then he hates me too.”

“There are two Davids for him. Newsie David and St. George’s David. He likes to pretend newsie David doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with-”

“You’re a seventeen year old who fought him and won, you called him a hypocrite, and he thinks your friends are hooligans.”

“He told you I called him that?”

“No, I just know everything. He thinks all those things about you but he also thinks you’re smart, and a great writer, and that you have a lot of potential. He likes people who challenge his ideas but it’s never been someone so young or someone who  _ literally  _ challenged him. He needs time to adjust.”

The elevator bell rang and a few seconds later the door opened. 

“I’m Dr. Meyers. I’m assuming you’re my patient?” he addressed David.

“Yes, sir. David Jacobs.” 

“What happened?” Hannah moved out of the way and he put his bag down on David’s desk. 

“It’s not a big deal, I-”

“He got punched in the face and he hit his head on the back of a metal banister. And while you’re here, he’s got a broken rib.” 

“Hannah!”

Dr. Meyers raised an eyebrow.

“How did that happen?”

“Just a fight.” He glared at Hannah when she snorted but found that it hurt his face. 

“And that black eye that looks several days old? Same incident?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He set about first cleaning the blood off of David’s face and then examining his nose. “I’m going to have to set this. How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” 

“Close enough.” He opened his bag and took out a bottle of whiskey. 

“Doctor!” Hannah exclaimed.

“This is going to hurt him either way, might as well dull it. Does anybody care about the new drinking age anyway?”

“Yes! And he has a head wound!”

“David?” 

“I’ll take it.” He accepted the bottle and took a swig. 

“David!”

“It’s fine, Hannah.”

“I’m uncomfortable with how easy that went down,” she said sternly.

“I’m a fast learner?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Take another,” Doctor Meyers insisted. “Trust me, you’re going to want it.”

“I know, sir.” David drank. “I’ve done this before. Hopefully this makes it easier.” 

“Ma’am? Do you faint easily?” 

Hannah didn’t even respond, just walked into Pulitzer’s office.

It turned out he needed stitches in his head too, which hurt like sons of bitches. The whiskey helped a little but not as much as he had hoped. When Doctor Meyers was done he asked to see David’s ribs.

Just when David had gotten his shirt unbuttoned, a nauseous looking Hannah stepped out of the office.

“He’s done, Hannah,” he assured her.

“Oh, good.” She took her hand away from her eyes. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Dr. Meyers unwrapped his ribs and Hannah looked decidedly unhappy. She turned away and went to her desk. 

“David’s nose is set and his head is all stitched up.” He poked and prodded at David’s ribs and he winced. David tried to keep his breathing steady and even but it hurt a lot. Inexplicably, he thought about holding Jack’s hand. “Stop wrapping this.”

“Why?”

“It’s not going to do anything to help anymore. It’s in place, it just needs time to heal.”

“But  _ can  _ I wrap it?” David desperately hoped the answer would be yes. It was harder to breathe that way but the injury was less painful. 

“No, you should keep your lungs less restricted.”

“There’s nothing else I can do?” 

“Stop getting into fights you can’t win.”

He did his buttons back up as Dr. Meyers packed his bag.

“Sir? Could I possibly get you your pay in increments? I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have called you but they did and I don’t have a lot of money with me right now.” 

“It’s paid for already. Good day, Mr. Jacobs, ma’am.” 

“Are you really okay?” She asked when he was gone.

“I’ve been worse.”

“Can I do anything for you?” 

He smiled. 

“Thanks, but no.” The only thing that could make him feel better was busy selling papers and kicking him out of their union. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David goes to the Pulitzer’s house and Edmund won’t stop talking. Jack makes an appearance.

On Friday, David had made it home for Shabbat and the first thing he was asked when he walked in the door was what happened to his face. He refused to answer, promising to do so after sunset the following night. He didn’t, and escaped with the excuse that he was going to see Jack for a few hours. He ended up wandering around the city, waiting until he knew his family would be asleep.

Sunday morning, he left early for work, and did the same thing for several hours. Eventually, he made his way to the address he was given. The closer he got to the Pulitzer’s home, the more uncomfortable he was. He felt and looked out of place. He had a suit on, sure, but he also had a broken nose. David had a hard time imagining any of the people he passed having a broken nose or even a bruise on their face.

The Pulitzer house (mansion) itself was incredibly intimidating. It looked like one of the museums Katherine liked to go to. He really hoped it was her who answered the door but knew it wouldn’t be. Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

It only took about twenty seconds for the door to swing open. A short man stood in front of him, dressed in the stereotypical fashion of a butler or footman and scrutinized David. He tried to look calm and unintimidated but knew he was probably failing spectacularly.

“Can I help you,  _ sir?” _ he sneered.

“Um, yes, I’m Mr. Pulitzer’s new assistant? David Jacobs? He’s expecting me.” 

“Ah, yes. I was told to expect a child.” Well, that was just unnecessary. “Come in.” 

David nervously slipped inside and had to stop himself from marveling at the state of the foyer. First of all, it was a  _ foyer,  _ which was something he had never seen before. Second of all, it looked how his literature teacher had described her visit to the Sistine Chapel, except less Christian. 

“If you’d follow me.” He was led through halls and up a flight of stairs. He saw several workers on his way, and they all nodded a polite hello to the footman. A few of them seemed intrigued by David, but it was likely because his nose matched the lavender dresses that their boss’s daughter sometimes wore.

The man rapped on the door.

“Come in.” 

“Sir? Mr. Jacobs has arrived.”

“Send him in.” 

The office was just as extravagant as the one at work. It seemed that more than just the footman’s attitude was unnecessarily snooty.

“Good morning, Jacobs.”

“Good morning, sir.”

“I trust you had no trouble finding my home.” 

“It’s kinda hard to miss.”

Pulitzer chuckled.

“Sit down. How was your sabbath?” 

David was surprised by the question. He couldn’t figure out what Pulitzer’s opinion of him was (though Hannah had said it was complicated) but he didn’t think he was being passive aggressive about his missed work.

“It was…good, sir, thank you.” Was he supposed to return the question? He had no idea if Pulitzer still celebrated it at all. He knew he worked late and that his wife attended church (Katherine often lamented being dragged along), but it was possible he celebrated in his own way. David decided it was best to hold off.

“Good. How angry were your parents about your nose?”

“Not at all.”

Pulitzer gave him a skeptical look but let it go. They worked for a few hours. David thought it was a little more interesting and educational than what he had done thus far, probably because there were no meetings for Pulitzer to attend or people to be dealt with (although David found himself missing Hannah). Around noon, another footman brought Pulitzer lunch and they continued working as he ate. At twelve thirty, somebody knocked on the door. 

“Come in.”

“Hello, Joseph.” David turned to see an elegant woman standing in the doorway. She was dressed to the nines and somehow still looked natural standing in the doorway (likely because even the doorway was ornate). Her smile was soft, in a way David didn’t associate with his boss. He had never met her before, but he recognized her straight away. It was Mrs. Pulitzer and she looked just like Katherine.

David stood, and she strode into the room. 

“I just came to see how you were doing.”

“Fine, dear.”

“And you must be David.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake and he did so gladly.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You have a lovely home.” 

“Thank you, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Anyone who can call my husband a fool and be right about it is a good one in my book.” David spluttered, unsure of what to do. She laughed. “Oh, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, dear, I’m being genuine.”

“Oh. Well, um. Thank you?” 

She laughed again and said, “you’re quite welcome. Joseph, how long will you be today?”

“I’ll be done by dinner, as I already told you.”

“You did, but I wanted to remind you, seeing as you say that every week and yet rarely are.”

“Mmm.” 

David saw her eyes flicker to the tray on the corner of her husband’s desk.

“Did you eat?” 

“I did,” Pulitzer said distractedly.

“I see one plate. Did you not offer anything to David? Honestly, Joseph.”

He looked up at his wife.

“Oh, no, ma’am, I’m all right, thank you.” He was hungry but he would rather be hungry for the rest of the day than witness an argument between the Pulitzers. He would be more than happy to see his boss square off with Katherine, but this was plain awkward. 

He remembered the night before he started and how Jack had made him promise to recount any tales of father versus daughter fights he might witness. David felt cold. It was the type of chill that a warm blanket and a cup of tea by the fire wouldn’t fix.

“No, dear, you have to eat something.”

“I’m not particularly hungry, ma’am, but thank you. That’s very generous.” 

It was obvious she didn’t believe him. Pulitzer’s face was blank. 

“Well, you  _ must  _ stay for dinner, then.” He froze. “Unless, of course, you already had plans.”

“Oh, no, ma’am, I couldn’t-”

“Nonsense. It hasn’t been started yet but I’ll be sure to tell the chef to make it kosher.”

“Mrs. Pulitzer, that’s really not-”

“I’ll hear no more about it. Besides, Katherine will be thrilled, I’m sure.” 

Would she be? Did she, too, think he was abandoning the newsies? Would she side with Jack? Were there sides? 

“Don’t pressure the boy, Kate.”

“Well, one of the Pulitzers needs to feed him and if it isn’t going to be you, it’ll be me. I’ll see you both in a few hours.” She left and David and Pulitzer avoided eye contact.

It only took a few minutes to get back into a rhythm and all awkwardness was quickly forgotten about. Until, that is, the dinner bell rang.

The dining room was huge and David was as nervous as he’d ever been. St. George’s taught etiquette but by the time they were old enough to attend, most boys more than understood the rules of dining so that aspect hadn’t been more than skimmed over.

His fear abated a tiny bit when he saw Katherine. She saw him too and hurried over, pulling him into a tight hug that made her father look decidedly uncomfortable. David couldn’t bring himself to care and returned it. He needed comfort from one of his friends right now, in whatever form it took. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear. “He loves you.” It took quite a bit of effort for him not to cry. He nodded into her shoulder but pulled back quickly so as not to be inappropriate. “So do I, by the way,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. 

He smiled gratefully.

“Me too.”

Katherine introduced him to her siblings and holy shit, did she have siblings. There were actually only four but her older brother made him feel incredibly intimidated and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if he was courting their sister. Still, he had seen her hug David close and whisper in his ear. 

When his dinner was put in front of him he was nearly sick. It wasn’t that it was bad - it looked and smelled absolutely delicious - but the idea of eating such a big meal when his family wouldn’t be was painful. There were several sets of utensils laid out in front of him and David came to the realization that this was not a meal, but a course. He almost had an anxiety attack right there and then.

“So, David,” Mrs. Pulitzer began, getting his attention, “Katherine tells me that you're quite the writer.” 

David blushed. 

“Does she?” He shot her a glare and she just grinned. “That’s very kind of her, but I’m not particularly talented.”

“Oh, please,” Katherine said, “I considered showing your last ethics essay to my coworkers just to prove them wrong.”

“What was it about?” Ralph, Katherine’s older brother, asked.

“The implications of the war in the Philippines.” 

“And what’s your position?” Ralph asked, turning to him. 

David swallowed nervously. Katherine was never allowed to read another of his papers ever again. 

“I…I don’t think we should be there.”

“And why is that?”

“Because imperialism doesn’t help the countries taken over, it just helps us.”

“Shouldn’t that be our goal? To help America?” 

David wasn’t sure if he was being tested or if Ralph actually thought that. 

“America wouldn’t be in any danger if we left the Philippines alone.”

“You’d rather Spain have control?”

“Spain left and they’re not going back. Our revolution was based partially on the idea that we can govern ourselves, so why can’t other people do it too?”

“Your friend, the governor might disagree with you,” Pulitzer said.

“Governor Roosevelt seems like a good man, but we disagree on a great number of things,” he replied.

“He’d be disappointed to hear you say that.”

“I honestly don’t think he spends that much time considering my opinion.” He probably shouldn’t have said that but Mrs. Pulitzer seemed entertained and Katherine laughed out loud.

“Yes, well, we’re unfortunately similar in that sense,” his boss said.

Katherine sent him a reassuring smile, which David thought was meant to convey he was doing a decent job and really, that was all he could hope for.

He avoided his parents’ inquiries for one more night by staying on the roof with Sarah until they were asleep, and leaving before they woke up the next morning. He told Sarah what had happened but only because he hadn’t ever lied to her, nor would he ever want to.

At school on Monday, William didn’t say anything to him, but did glare more than usual. David had no idea why he wasn’t going after him but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Good morning, David,” Edmund said as they filed in and sat down. 

“Good morning, Edmund.”

“I spoke to Mama.”

“About what?”

“You. I told her my friend said that Jews don't hate Christians.”

“Oh yeah? And what did she say?”

“She said ‘I’d like to meet one who doesn’t’ so I told her that you’re Jewish and she didn’t say anything at all.”

David wasn’t sure if that should make him feel better or worse, but he also wasn’t sure he cared all that much.

Service began, but Edmund continued whispering to him. David was surprised that they hadn’t gotten in trouble yet. He continuously tried to make him stop talking but nothing worked and he eventually gave up.

“And then William asked if you ever talked about your job and-”

“Wait, what?” David has zoned out for a few minutes but apparently they were now talking about William. “Go back. When did you talk to William?” 

Edmund rolled his eyes and said, “I already told you. He came up to me before school this morning and asked if we were friends.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That we are. We  _ are  _ friends, right, David?”

“Yeah.”

“Great!” Edmund beamed. “He asked me if you ever talked about your job and I told him that I didn’t even know you had a job. What’s your job, David?”

“I…uh, I’m an assistant. Why did he ask you?”

“Don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “but he seemed very curious.” 

Well, that couldn’t be good news. 

Work was fine, if exhausting. He bumped into Georgie again on the way home.

“Hi, Georgie. How many papers do you have left?” 

“Evening, Mr. Jacobs. Only four. Does your family need some again?” 

David really wished he could say yes but he couldn’t. The problem with his pay at  _ The World  _ was that even thought it was more, he got it every two weeks. After the first time it would be okay because they could budget but right now it was hard. He shook his head sadly. 

“Sorry, Georgie, but I don’t have the money right now.” 

“That’s okay, sir,” Georgie said with a sigh, “I’ll sell them.” 

“You should return them in the morning. It’s almost midnight and you’re not going to sell them now.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Want me to walk you home?”

“No thanks.”

“You really shouldn’t go alone.”

“I won’t. I ain’t been selling so good lately so Jack said he’d come here at midnight to walk me home if I was still here.”

Jack. His heart hurt and his stomach twisted. He had to go. Now. But…it was late and dark and scary; there was no way he could leave Georgie in good conscience. He would wait until he saw Jack approach and then leave so they didn’t have to interact. Unfortunately, as he thought up his plan, he missed Jack coming up from behind. 

“Hiya, Jack!” Georgie said. David whirled around. “Mr. Jacobs said he’d walk me home but I said you were coming.”

They stared at each other for a minute. Jack looked like he wanted to reach out so David stepped back, despite wanting that more than anything in the world.

“Dave-”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I know I’m not welcome with the newsies anymore but I couldn’t let him be alone.”

“Davey, pl-”

“Good night, Georgie.” He turned and walked away as quickly as his feet would carry him. Jack didn’t call out and that somehow hurt worse than seeing him did. 

“David? What happened, boychik?”

“Nothing, Aba. Go back to sleep.” Instead of listening to him, his father gestured for him to sit. 

David sighed softly and sat down at the table. Mayer sat across from him and took his bag out of his lap to put on the floor. He gently lifted David’s chin from where it was sunk to his chest. 

“What happened?” he whispered. “I know you’ve been avoiding talking to me about it.”

“Nothing happened, I promise. I was just being clumsy.”

“How do you get a broken nose from being clumsy?”

“I…Aba, please,” he begged, “please don’t make me explain. I’m just too tired to come up with an excuse tonight.” 

Mayer didn’t respond. Instead, he reached across the table and dragged over a bowl and a hunk of bread. 

“Here. Eat. We kept it warm for as long as we could, but…”

“Thank you.” David tried not to guzzle down the soup but he was so hungry it hurt. It was almost midnight and he hadn’t eaten since noon.

“Of course.” His father let him sit in silence and eat for all of three minutes. “David, this isn’t good for you.”

“The soup?” 

“Don’t play stupid,” he replied softly. “Is this really worth it? You’re exhausted and this is only week two.”

“Yes.” David nodded. “Yes, it’s worth it. When I get paid on Friday you’ll see.”

“No amount of money is worth your health.”

“No amount of exhaustion outweighs my family.” He slid the empty bowl away from him. “I know you don’t care about the money, Aba, but…we have to stop pretending this is temporary and that we’re just going through a rough time. We’re  _ all  _ exhausted, even Les.”

His father looked solemn. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, Aba.”

“If I hadn’t-”

“What? Done your job? None of it was your fault.” David sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t afford to be tired when Les is hungry or Sarah and Ima’s hands are cracked and bleeding. And I know you know that, because you’re doing the same thing.”

“I’m making more money than you, boychik.” 

“And if it fed us I would stop,” David snapped. His father’s look of guilt was like a punch to the stomach. He was trying so hard to provide for his family and his son had made him feel ashamed. David slumped. “I’m sorry, Aba, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did, but that’s all right.”

“I know you’re trying your best-”

“As are you. But, David, I’m  _ not  _ doing the same thing. If I worked as much as you did, I would collapse.”

“I’m younger and don’t have a bad leg.”

“You’re human.” Mayer sighed and stood, clapping him on the shoulder. “Get some sleep.”

“I’ve got homework to do. I’ll be in in a little while.” His father gave him one of the saddest looks he had ever seen, nodded, and left. There was nothing worse than disappointing his aba and David had succeeded in doing so several times that night.

His homework took him about an hour, and even though it was half-assed, he really needed to sleep. David didn’t remember getting ready, but suddenly he was laying down on his mat next to the bed and pulling his blanket over him. 

“David? Is that you?” his mother whispered. 

“Yes, Ima. Go back to sleep,” he responded.

She did, but David lay awake for hours, despite being utterly exhausted. He was still cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David goes to school and has to face the music. Crutchie and Sarah try to help.

David should have known how lucky he was to escape Mr. Parker’s wrath on Monday. He had gotten to school just before the bell rang, hid during his lunch hour (even though Mr. Parker had a class), and ran out after school. Tuesday morning, Mr. Parker was waiting for him by the entrance. David paused for a moment but pushed himself forward, eyes down. He tried to walk past him but Mr. Parker grabbed his arm gently. 

“Good morning, Mr. Jacobs.”

“Good morning, sir,” he whispered back. 

“How about you come with me to my office for a chat?”

“Okay.”

Usually, David walked side by side with Mr. Parker, chatting about this and that, but not today. Today, he walked three paces behind him. His teacher held the door for him and pointed to a chair when they entered the office. David sat, clutching the strap of his satchel for dear life, keeping it crossed over his chest.

He heard the door close and lock. The only other time Mr. Parker had locked the door was when David told him about his father’s accident. He sat down across from David.

“Sir, I-”

“You look terrible, David.” 

He hadn’t been expecting that. He looked up and into Mr. Parker’s eyes and saw genuine concern.

“I’m…I’ve been told.” 

“You’ve had this job for a week and you look like you’ve been awake for a year. What’s going on?”

David dropped his eyes back to the floor. 

“Do we have to talk about this? Can I just apologize for the other day, accept my punishment, and move on?” 

“Punishment?” Mr. Parker frowned. “David, I’m the one who owes  _ you _ an apology.”

“What?”

“It was unfair of me to blame you for your injuries. I know they aren’t your fault and that they aren’t exactly fun for you. What happened to your nose?” 

“I…it wasn’t on school grounds, sir, I promise.”

“David,” he said, sounding shocked. “I’m almost hurt that you would think that I care so little about you that I’m only interested if it happens at school. David, look at me please.” He did. “Whatever’s happening, whatever’s going on, I can help you.”

“You can’t,” he responded quietly. “Thank you, but you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because no one can.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because no one ever has.” 

Mr. Parker sighed and bent to open a lower drawer in his desk. He pulled something out and handed it to David. 

“Here.”

“What is this?” David asked, examining the paper bag. 

“My wife made muffins last night. Eat.”

“What? Mr. Parker, I-”

“You what? Haven’t eaten in days?” 

“I ate this morning, sir.”

“You don’t look it.” 

“I can’t take your lunch, sir.”

“You aren’t. I brought that for you.” 

David almost choked on air. He didn’t know what to do so he took the bag off the desk and opened it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, wishing he could refuse but letting the hunger pangs win. He took it out and when he bit into it he felt like crying. His stupid fucking emotions just wouldn’t stop and hadn’t in weeks. He hated it.

“David.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Tell me what’s going on. Is it your father? Is he feverish again?” 

“No. I’m just tired, it’s nothing terrible.”

“I know what tired looks like. Tired is when you can’t sleep at night and still have to work in the morning. Tired is when you run ten miles. You’re…well, I can’t even say exhausted because you’ve surpassed that.”

“I haven’t. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Mr. Parker smiled sadly at him.

“This job was supposed to help you, not hurt you.”

“It has helped. I’ll never be able to adequately thank you for helping me get it.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming along.”

“There…there’s long hours.”

“And you would sometimes sell papers until midnight so that’s not all of it either. I’m not an idiot, David.”

“I don’t think you are, sir.”

“Then be honest with me. What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s affecting you like this.”

David sighed. What was the point of lying anymore?

“My friends aren’t happy about my new job.”

“The other newsies?”

“Other implies I still am one. I’m being thrown out of the union.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“They thought I was abandoning them - that I was a traitor - and now…”

“And now you feel like they’re abandoning you.” David nodded. Mr. Parker sighed and leaned back in his chair with his legs crossed. “Why are they throwing you out?”

David shrugged. 

“It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense for the vice president of the union to be working directly for the man we’re at odds with. I tried to explain that I would always take their side but it didn’t work. I can’t exactly blame them.”

“Why not?”

“Mr. Pulitzer was awful to us this summer. My…my best friend’s brother was thrown in jail for striking. He got hurt really bad and he’s not the only one. I just…I’m sorry, I’m being dramatic.”

“No, you’re not. When was this?”

“Friday.”

“But you’ve been like this for a while.”

“I’m tired.” 

“So you said.”

“No, I mean, I’m just  _ tired.  _ I don’t think it would matter if I slept for a year.” Mr. Parker frowned and gestured for him to continue. Sharing this kind of thing was probably inappropriate but David really couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck at this point. “I’m tired in general, sure, and my hours now are consistently longer but…I’m tired of being in charge of everything constantly. I’m tired of going to school for eight and half hours and then working for another seven or eight and going home to a sleeping family. I’m tired of my mother being mad at me for doing what’s best for the family.” He rubbed an eye wearily.

“I’m tired of being lectured by my sister about how I should stand up for myself when she knows I can’t. I’m tired of my brother thinking that I have all the answers and then being disappointed in me. I’m so, so tired of being picked on every day and soaked at least once a week. I’m tired of making up excuses and telling my parents I was mugged when I still have all my stuff. 

“I’m tired of people being mad at me all the time and of pretending to be something I’m not. I’m  _ not  _ meant for this kind of place, Mr. Parker. Everybody hates me and I’m constantly reminded of it. I want to stop having to justify my existence to students and faculty alike. I’m…I’m so sick of pretending not to be Jewish and that isn’t even what I’m doing! Nobody here thinks I’m a Christian but I’m still expected to act like I am!”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Parker, I don’t want to go to church more than I go to shul. I get that this is a religious school and that it’s what I signed up for, but…” David felt his eyes welling up embarrassingly. “My soul hurts, sir. Even on Saturdays I don’t always get to go to shul because there’s too much work to be done and I think God would be okay with us skipping to be able to buy food. But I want to go, sir. I want to…I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I’m rambling now. I’m just tired.”

Mr. Parker folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. 

“David, you’re allowed to be tired. You’re seventeen and have more responsibilities than most adults I know. And I’m sorry about church. If there was a way I could get you out of it, I would, you know that.” David nodded. “Have you spoken to your parents about any of this?” 

David laughed wetly. 

“No. My mother would make me quit or pull me out of school and my father would just be more disappointed than he already is. It’s not like it’s their fault my siblings and I need to work.”

“What about your sister? Have you spoken to her?”

“Not really. My siblings work just as much as I do, if not more, and it would feel wrong to complain. Besides, she does manual labor and I don’t.”

“That doesn’t mean your struggles are any less real. And I bet she doesn’t stay up until two in the morning doing homework, does she?” David shrugged. “I’m not trying to diminish her work, I’m trying to point out that you’re allowed to feel tired.”

“I know. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t mean to spill all of my emotions on you.” 

Mr. Parker chuckled. 

“I asked you to tell me and I have a hard time believing that’s all that’s been affecting you. Look, David, you need to eat and sleep more.” 

“That isn’t an option, sir.”

“But-”

“Mr. Parker, if there was a way for that to happen, it would. It’s really okay, though. In six months I’ll be done with school and then I can get a job that pays more.”

“This can’t continue for six months. Tell you what, you still have a key to this office, right?” David nodded. “Good. Come sleep in here during your lunch hour.” He pointed to his sofa. 

“What? Sir, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You aren’t. My lunch hour is right after yours so I can come wake you up.”

“Sir-”

“And I can bring you lunch.”

“No! No, sir, you can’t. Please don’t.” 

Mr. Parker looked perplexed.

“Why not?”

“It’s a very kind offer, but I can’t. I don’t eat meals that my family doesn’t. I…I appreciate this muffin but I can’t eat food from you every day. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

Mr. Parker sighed.

“You don’t sound ungrateful, David. If you won’t accept food, accept sleep.” 

David looked longingly at the sofa. He knew from sitting on it that it was a lot more comfortable than his mat at home and his body was aching for him to lie down on it and close his eyes. He felt terrible about it, but he couldn’t decline. He reluctantly nodded. A single tear escaped his eye and he quickly wiped it away.

“Okay. Thank you, sir. I…thank you.”

“Of course, David. It’s the very least I can do. In fact, there’s still about fifty minutes left in church. Why don’t you take off your shoes and go lie down, hmm?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t know that you’ll make it to lunch conscious if you don’t.” 

David thanked him and awkwardly made his way to the sofa. He slipped off his bag, shoes, and uniform jacket and lay down. He felt his eyelids falling but for some reason he was hesitant to let sleep claim him. 

Mr. Parker must have noticed because he said “Sleep, David. It’s just me. You’ve known me for nearly seven years. I’ll be here doing paperwork.” 

David nodded and was asleep almost instantly.

“Hi, David.”

“Hi, Hannah. You look lovely today, as per usual.”

“Thanks, dear. You look awful.”

David snorted and rolled his eyes.

He was still exhausted. The naps he took in Mr. Parker’s office had made him feel pretty groggy at first but later in the day he noticed he had slightly more energy. It had worn off by the end of his last class but he was still thankful for it.

“Is he in?”

“No, he’s in a meeting downstairs. Hey, you don’t celebrate Christmas, do you?” she asked as he sat down. 

“No, why?”

“Oh, well then I have a fun new experience for you,” Hannah said sarcastically. “I left a list in your drawer.”

He opened it and saw a long list of names and a bundle of cards.

“What are these?”

“Christmas cards. How well can you do his signature?”

“Pretty well.” 

“Have fun.” 

David groaned. The list had at least a hundred names on it. How did anybody know so many people? Then again, it was the Pulitzer family. If there were extras at the end he would write one to Katherine that said _ “Dear Katherine, have less friends. Fuck you. Love, Davey.” _

An hour later his hand felt like it was on fire.

“Do people really put this much weight on Christmas cards?”

“Not when I was your age, but now…it’s a nice thing to do. Let people know you’re thinking of them around Christmas.”

“Yes, it’s probably very heartwarming to receive a Christmas card from a Jew signed by his Jewish assistant.” Hannah rolled her eyes.

“You have Chanukah right? Do you do gifts for that?”

David shrugged. 

“Some people in America do these days. Traditionally we exchange gifts on Purim but it’s shifting here.” She gave him a questioning look. “It’s a holiday in early spring. In Poland we never did.” 

“You’re from Poland?”

“Tak.”

“I’m assuming that means yes. I didn’t know that. When did you move here?” she asked. 

David looked up from his writing and saw her leaning her elbow on her desk and resting her chin on her hand. She seemed genuinely curious.”

“When I was nine.”

“Why?”

“There were…” David paused, thinking of how best to phrase it. “It wasn’t safe anymore. It was during the eighties - lots of pogroms going on. My mother was pregnant and we had the opportunity to leave, so we did.”

“Do you ever miss it there?”

David looked at her and earnestly said, “Every day.” 

She smiled sadly. 

“What did your family do back in Poland?”

“My father was a melamed and-”

“What does that mean?”

“He was a religious educator appointed by the village.” 

“He can’t teach here?”

David sighed softly. 

“There aren’t really any jobs available and it’s Manhattan - there are lots of people. Plus, his English isn’t very good so if people don’t speak Polish or Yiddish…” David shrugged. “He still teaches informally, though. On Saturdays it seems like half the building’s children are in our tenement.” 

Hannah smiled.

“Did your mother work too?”

“Yes. She was a surgeon’s assistant.”

“Really?” Hannah looked shocked and David couldn’t blame her. 

“Yeah. She’s scarily smart and where we lived nobody had time to care if she was a woman as long as she was good at her job. Our family was certainly less traditional than some of those around us but people respected my parents and nobody was loved as much as my grandparents, so…Anyway, they obviously don’t do that here.” He chuckled awkwardly. 

Hannah nodded. They worked in silence for a long time but it was comfortable. Every once and awhile the phone rang but that was the only noise. 

Pulitzer eventually came back from his meeting and sent David out with a list of errands to do and people to see. He was, unfortunately, unable to avoid newsies when he was running around Manhattan. He did his best to ignore them but when he heard his name called yet again, he couldn’t bring himself to ignore the voice. 

“Hi, Crutchie.” 

“Davey, where’ve you been?” 

“You mean nobody told you?” 

Crutchie rolled his eyes and said, “Of course they told me but doesn’t mean you’re not being stupid.” David bristled. “Come to the lodging house one night and talk to us.”

“No thanks. I already know what's going to be said and I have no interest in hearing it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I do,” he replied, nodding. “I don't need to be told I’m a traitor again or that I’m not going to side with you guys. And…well, it’s unfair to blame  _ you,  _ Crutchie, because you have more of a right than anyone to be mad that I’m working for Pulitzer, but-”

“I’m not mad.” He sounded genuine. “I spoke against replacing you.”

David stared at him in shocked silence for a moment. 

“You did?”

“Duh. You’re my friend.” 

David didn’t know how anybody could be as kind, sweet, and forgiving as Crutchie. Even Jack (who was supposed to love him) wanted him gone but Crutchie somehow had such a big heart that he didn’t care about who David was working for.

“Why would I care about Pulitzer? You’re doing what’s best for you and  _ I  _ work for Pulitzer.” David chuckled. “So do the rest of us so I don’t know what their problem is. I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

David couldn’t resist and he pulled Crutchie into a hug. He couldn’t recall ever initiating physical affection with any of the newsies except for Jack but in that moment he had to embrace his friend. “Woah. Hiya, Dave.” 

David chuckled. 

“Sorry. Thanks for supporting me.” He pulled back. 

“We’re family and you always support family, they’re just being dumb. And so are you, by the way. Come over.”

David shook his head.

“I can’t. They’ve made their position perfectly clear.”

“I haven’t seen Jack this miserable since…ever, actually. Maybe he was during the strike but I wasn’t around to see it.”

“I doubt it,” David scoffed. “He seemed all too happy to toss me to the curb.” 

“Davey,” Crutchie said and gave him an exasperated look, “do you actually think he suddenly doesn’t love you?” Crutchie was one of the few people who knew about him and Jack. Jack had insisted on telling him and David trusted both of them. 

“Maybe he never did, he just thought he did.”

“Now you’re really being stupid.”

“Look, I’ve got to get back to work.” It was an obvious cop out but Crutchie nodded reluctantly. David smiled at him and started walking away. 

“What do I tell the others?” Crutchie shouted after him. David turned around to face him, still walking away. 

“Nothing! We didn’t see each other.”

“Well, nice of you to join me,” Sarah said as David climbed up the ladder and onto the roof. He cringed in response. 

“Sorry.”

“I’m just teasing, boychik. I know you’re exhausted and that you were at work. Come sit down.” 

He practically collapsed across from her and picked up his stitching. His eyes were blurring a little bit but he had done this so many times that it wasn’t a big deal. 

“How was your day?” 

Sarah shrugged.

“It was fine. Abigail Prince was being bitchy and I knocked her down a peg in front of the class, so that was fun.” David laughed. “I’ll tell you about it another time. How was yours?” 

“Weird.”

“Yeah?” He nodded. Sarah paused for a minute and seemed to be contemplating whether or not she should say something. “You know…we used to tell each other everything. I still do, actually. You haven’t told me anything real in months.”

“That’s not true!”

Sarah rolled her eyes. 

“All right, fine, you told me about the broken nose and head wound, but I already knew about William. When was the last time you looked to me when you needed someone to talk to? You’re just holding it in and it isn’t good for you. I mean, I know you have Jack but-” Sarah was cut off by David’s sob. “David?” She came over to him and gathered him in her arms. 

“I miss him so much.”

“Why? Why can’t you see him, neshama?” 

So David let himself break down and tell Sarah everything that had been going on. He told her about the union and Jack and work. He told her about how he felt like Les was angry and Aba was disappointed and she didn’t respect him anymore. He told her about how he didn’t know if Ima would ever like him again and how even Mr. Parker could tell that he was off. 

Sarah just held him close and soothed him. She rubbed his back and shushed him gently. When he was out of tears and he was double-breathing she whispered to him about how much she loved him. 

“Neshama, of course I respect you. I respect you more than anyone else in the world. You’re my favorite person and the person I love most - how could I not respect you? It’s going to be okay, boychik, I promise. We’re going to fix it together.”

“How?” he whispered. 

She kissed the top of his head. 

“Just trust me, okay?”

“But Jack! I can’t…I need him, Sarah.” 

“First of all, you don’t need anyone. You’re strong and capable. But I know you want him and you’ll get him back, I swear.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He is so in love with you, neshama.”

He let himself be comforted quietly for a while, the sound of his hiccups and double-breaths permeating the air. The cold stone below him was grounding and even the pebbles pressing into his knees weren’t painful. Sarah made him feel safe.

“Now listen,” she said after a while, “I don’t know how Jack’s mind works so I can’t tell you what he’s thinking and because of that I don’t know if I can help.”

“But you said-”

“Shh. I don’t know if I can help but I know someone who knows him and definitely can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas cards started being sent in the first half of the 19th century. In the second half, many American Jews started giving gifts around Chanukah instead of Purim. I sent the Russian pogroms back a few years because I imagine David and Sarah as a little older when they left for America.
> 
> I’m estimating that there will be three more chapters in this story but that’s subject to change.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David finds out a little more about Jack and speaks to maybe the only person who can help him. Also, Jack is incredibly dramatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unproofread and I’m sleep deprived. Have fun.

It was a long and busy week. Between work, school, and helping with Les, David didn’t have time to deal with the Jack Problem. He was capitalizing it in his head because he thought it was only right to make the thing looming over him at all times a proper noun.

A proper, compound noun, David mentally corrected himself. It had been trained into him since he started attending St. George’s and sometimes he literally twitched at his friends’ grammar even though that obviously wasn’t fair. He didn’t actually care that much, but if he spoke like they did, his knuckles would he hit so many times and so hard with a ruler that they would never heal properly.

It was finally Saturday night, just after sundown, and he was making his way through the Bowery. His black eye was gone completely and the color of his nose was less like an eggplant and more like a regular bruise. Consequently, he wasn’t being avoided.

He got several winks and people gestured with their finger for him to come to them. None of them were scary, they were just promoting clubs or trying to figure out why he was there. Was he that obvious? Was there something about the way he carried himself? Maybe it was just that they were queer too.

It certainly wasn’t alway the case, but David felt he was pretty good at telling that kind of thing. Sarah has drunkenly teased him one night that it might be an evolutionary advantage: queer people could tell with a fair degree of accuracy if other people were queer, and thereby they could meet other queer people and be safe. It was a joke, and David didn’t doubt for a second that it wasn’t true, but in this moment he hoped it was, because if it wasn’t then maybe that meant that other people could tell he was queer on sight too, and that was dangerous.

Shaking himself out of his thought spiral before it consumed him, David politely smiled at the people who interacted with him and made his way to Medda’s theater. He had never been by himself and was having a little trouble finding it. 

“Are you lost, kid?”

David spun around ninety degrees to look at the man next to him. He must have been at least thirty, but David still felt a little like thirty was too young to be calming him “kid.”

“I’m all right, sir. I’m…could you point me in the direction of the Overton Theater?” 

The man tilted his and looked at him curiously.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“But you’re looking for Ms. Larkin, aren’t you?” 

“Um, yes. Do you know her?” 

The man scoffed humorously. 

“Everybody knows Ms. Larkin. How’d you hear about her?”

“A friend introduced me.”

“Oh! So you’ve met her before?” 

Now David was genuinely confused. He was definitely missing something but he had no idea what. 

“Yeah, a bunch of times.”

“So you’re one of her boys, then?” 

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, sir.”

“You know,” he insisted, “one of the- you’re not police, are you?”

“What? No!”

“Okay. One of the boys she takes care of.”

“Um…I mean, in a way. My friend, Jack, he-”

The man’s eyes widened in realization. 

“Oh! You’re one of Jack’s kids, then.”

“I suppose.” He kept himself from flinching, but barely. 

“Well, that’s different then.”

“How?”

“Well, Ms. Larkin helps whoever needs it however she can, but Jack? Why, he’s practically her son.” 

David nodded and replied, “I know. They’re close. Do you know Jack?”

“I’ve met him a few times. Here, I’ll walk you to the theater. There’s a show about to start so I’ll take you to the stage door instead of the lobby.”

“Thank you.” 

“Your friend Jack is a real character,” he said as he started leading the way. “Good kid but angry.”

“Angry?”

“Can’t say I blame him. I was there, you know.”

“There? There when?”

“Ms. Larkin’s a friend of mine and I was with her that first night Jack came ‘round. It was pouring and he was soaked to the bone and shivering. Poor kid looked like he hadn’t eaten in a week. He was scared, too. I was just opening the backdoor to see if it was still raining, and there he was. I thought he couldn’t have been more than ten but it turns out he was thirteen. I tried to help him up but he was having none of it. But Ms. Larkin? Well, she convinced him to let her help.”

David swallowed and remained quiet. 

“Got him dry clothes and a warm meal. He ate like he thought we were gonna take the food back from him. Ms. Larkin’s apartment was just upstairs and she tucked him in like a mother with a babe. I’ve never seen anyone look so lost.” The man had a far away look in his eyes but it disappeared quickly. “But anyway, you know all that.”

“What’s your name, sir?”

“David. Yours?”

David laughed. 

“Also David.”

“Well there you go then.”

When they reached the stage door, older David said he had somewhere to be and left younger David by himself. He knocked several times but when no answer came, he pulled on the door. It was locked. He cursed, but then remembered how he had come in in the past. He ran around back and up the stairs, ending up on the catwalk. 

He almost burst out laughing when, just like a reenactment, Medda looked up and sternly said, “You up there, shoo! No kids in the theater!”

David smiled genuinely for the first time in days, leaned over the railing and responded, “Not even me, Miss Medda?”

“David? I hardly recognized you! Come here.”

He ran down the stairs and she met him at the bottom. He hardly had time to notice her worried face before he was pulled into a firm (yet somehow gentle) hug. “How are you, sweetheart?” she asked quietly. 

“I’m…okay. How are you?” 

“A lot better than you, I’d say. I’ve heard a lot about you these last few weeks.” He blushed. “Come on. I’m done for this performance and I’ve got two hours before I’m on again. Come upstairs and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” She held up a hand and he stopped talking.

Upstairs, it turned out, was an actual living space. He wasn’t sure what he imagined when David said she had an apartment but it wasn’t this. For some reason he was surprised she lived in her theater, though it made sense. Nobody loved theater more than Medda Larkin.

“Sit down.” He sat quietly as she made two cups of tea and sat across from him at her kitchen table. “What’s going on?”

“What have you heard?” he countered.

“I heard you’re working for Pulitzer now and that you got hurt pretty bad. I also heard that you and the union are at odds?”

David scoffed. 

“More like I’ve been forced out. They told me because I can only sell once or twice a week I can’t be vice president, which makes sense to a certain extent but…they aren’t even letting me be a member anymore.” 

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry to hear that. That seems unfair. Whose idea was that?”

“Jack’s,” he spat angrily, eyes brimming with tears. 

“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like him.”

“He admitted it. And before you say anything, it wasn’t him protecting anyone or whatever. I know the difference.”

Medda nodded and sipped her tea. He stared down into his own. She sighed as she placed it back down on the table.

“Before I tell you what I’m going to, I need you to know this: I’ve heard people say that Jack’s like the son I never had but that’s not true.” David looked up, shocked. “Jack  _ is  _ my son in all but blood. The only reason he doesn’t live here with me is because he feels responsible for the other newsies. I’m not trying to make myself sound more important; we both feel this way.”

“Why didn’t I know that?” 

“We make a habit of not talking about it much. The two of us already cause more scandals than most,” she laughed, “and it wouldn’t go over well with a lot of people. Even if that weren’t the case, nobody would respect it or think it was real. Plus, who cares what others think as long as we know it? He wouldn’t lie to you, I just don’t think it ever occurred to him to mention. It isn’t a big deal.

“I’m saying all this because I needed you to know what he means to me before I told you this: Jack’s self destructive and dramatic. I love him with all my heart - more than anything in this world - but he makes things worse for himself.”

“Why?”

“It’s not on purpose, he’s just so used to…he’s told you about his childhood, yes?”

David nodded. 

“A little bit. More than he’s told most people, I think.”

“Well then you know how he struggled and how many things went wrong for him. I think he figures that he might as well make things go wrong before someone else does and ends up hurting him. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now, just because there’s an explanation doesn’t mean there’s an excuse. What he did to you was wrong and you have a right to be angry.”

“It’s…it’s not even the union so much - although that hurts too - but the fact that he didn’t tell me and then tried to make it seem like it was for my own benefit.”

“He probably thought it was even if it was a skewed perception. But I’m not even talking about that, honey.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

She smiled sadly at him. 

“You had your heart broken. Nothing hurts more than that.” 

David nodded. He suspected Medda knew but hadn’t been sure and didn’t think it was necessary to ask Jack about. As long as it was safe, he was allowed to tell whomever he wanted to tell.

“Yeah,” David said, swiping away a tear. “That’s why I came, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I need advice. I need him, Medda. Desperately. Please help me solve this.”

“David, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Yes, I have! If he wanted me gone so much then I must have.”

“He didn’t want you gone from his side, that I know for certain. He’s been moping around for the last week. He isn’t even painting. And he told me he tried to talk to you but you walked away.”

“Yeah, because we were in front of a kid and I couldn’t deal with him berating me at that moment.”

Medda tsked in a way that must have been subconscious and shook her head. 

“He wasn’t going to  _ berate _ you, he was probably going to apologize.”

“Even if that’s true, apologies don't mean anything if nothing changes. He still kicked me out of the union and he still thinks I’m a sellout.”

“He doesn’t think that. Listen to me, David. Nobody thinks that at all.”

David scoffed. 

“Well, the things that have been said to my face by newsies is evidence to the contrary.”

“I was under the impression that most of them turned around pretty quickly and the ones that didn’t weren’t really your friends anyway.” David shrugged. “Is there something else? I’m here if you need someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on.”

He smiled weakly.

“I’m okay. I don’t need to talk about it.”

“I work in theater.”

“Okay?”

“I know a bad actor when I see one.” David chuckled wrly. “Tell me what’s happening.” 

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just stuff from home.”

“Like what?” 

“My mother and Les are mad and my father is disappointed in me about the job. But there’s no escape from it because my friends are disappointed or angry too. I don’t understand why my family is so upset about it! I’m doing this for them! I’m constantly exhausted and drained and worn out and whatever other synonyms you’d like and it’s like they think I’m doing it to spite them or something!” He sighed and gave up on clearing away his tears. “It seems like the more I do for the people I love, the less they love me.”

“That’s not it at all. It isn’t that they love you less - it’s that they know you less.” David choked on a whimper. Medda took his hand from across the table. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. People change all the time. You’re learning new things and doing new things - you’re also basically an adult, of course you’re changing. Your parents don’t like it because they’ll always see you as their baby boy and your brother doesn’t like it because kids don’t like change. How’s your relationship with your sister now?”

He shrugged.

“It’s been a rough couple of weeks but we’re doing better.”

“See? She gets it and that’s because she’s changing too. If people weren’t constantly changing then life would be so boring. And by the way, change doesn’t make the people you love love you any less, okay? I promise, David.

“Things are tough for you right now and it’s not fair and I’m so sorry but it will get better with your family. Talk to them.” He nodded. “Good. You’re a good b-”

A key turned in the knob and the door swung open. 

“Hey, Ma, I’m just stopping by to- Davey.” 

David froze without even turning around. He only knew he was shaking because of the drop of tea that sloshed onto the table. He put his cup down. 

Medda looked in between the two and said, “I’m going to go see how things are going downstairs.” She left, and David assumed by the small noise that she had given Jack a kiss on the cheek or forehead. The footsteps signaled his approach. 

“Can I sit?” he asked, still slightly behind David’s chair and out of his view. 

“It’s more your house than it is mine.” He kept his eyes up when Jack sat but it took all of his willpower. Jack reached for his hand and he pulled it off the table. He saw his shoulders slump slightly.

“Dave…I’m so sorry I hurt you. I love you more than anything else, you know that, right? Please tell me that you know that.”

“I used to think it,” David spat. He had found his anger. “But then you forced me out of the union and my friends’ lives.”

“You’re the only one who said you weren’t allowed to spend time with us anymore.”

“Bullshit!” He slammed his open hand down on the table and the tea shook again. “You’re not dumb enough to think that. You knew - however deep down it may have been - that by kicking me out-”

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that. You knew that by kicking me out of the union that I’d be a social outcast around there. I’d be separate from everyone else. If they don’t trust me enough to let me be in the union - if  _ you  _ don’t trust me enough to let me be in the union - then they don’t trust me enough or like me enough or whatever enough to be my friend. Or if they were I’d always know that I’m least liked.” David couldn’t help the tears streaming down his face. 

“Davey, none of the guys thought that, I promise. We all just didn’t want to pressure you to-”

“Even if you were just thinking of me, they weren’t. Even if some of them were, most weren’t.”

“I promise that’s not-”

“Jamie isn’t the only one who thinks I’m a traitor, or did you forget about that little show? Christ, that feels like a lifetime ago. I should have seen then that they would think of me as a traitor. Hell, a bunch of them said it!”

“They were just mad,” Jack tried to assure. “They don’t actually think that.”

“Well, they didn’t care enough about me not to say it!”

“Friends fight.”

“I would never say anything like that to my friends! I didn’t fucking say it to you during the strike!” Davey stood up, unable to not move anymore. “And by the way, even if all that wasn’t true, even if everyone did it because they thought it was what’s best for me…you should know that it wouldn’t have. You should be…if you loved me like you said you did you would have known that.”

“Why are you speaking like it’s the past? I still love you!” he said, standing. 

“Then why did you suggest ousting me?”

“Because I thought it was for the best! And because I was angry!” he finally admitted.

“Thank you! Fuck, did it really have to take you that long to admit?”

“Being angry don't mean I don’t love you! You never get angry at your family! Or me?”

“Never like that!” he yelled. “I would never express my anger that way. You want to know what I do when I’m angry? I control it! Sarah and I fight on the roof when everyone’s asleep but otherwise I don’t say anything!”

Jack laughed humorlessly.

“And you think that’s healthy?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Maybe what I did was wrong-”

_ “Maybe?” _

“But there’s gotta be an in between. And why can’t we have a fight? Couples fight! You were pissed at me and you left! You broke up with me!”

“You broke up with  _ me!” _

“No I didn’t!”

“You kicked me out of my home! My home is the newsies, don’t you get that, you idiot? You guys are my only friends besides Katherine, and she’s basically an honorary newsgirl. Fuck, Jack!” He walked towards the couch and practically collapsed on it in a sitting position. “Don’t you understand how lonely I was? I was so fucking lonely, I didn’t even know I was lonely! When we were Les’ age, Sarah would go out and play with her friends and I stayed home because I didn’t have any! I was so hated that my sister felt the need to volunteer to stay home with me so I didn’t feel like a loser for being friendless!” David sobbed.

“You guys were the first people to ever befriend me. Was it all an act?”

“No!” Jack came and sat down next to him. “No, baby, it wasn’t an act! We all love you, I swear, and no one more than me. Fuck, Dave, I miss you so much and so do they.” 

“Crutchie might but they don’t.”

“That’s not fair to them.”

“Oh, I’m the one not being fair now? Sure.” He saw Jack rub his forehead in frustration. 

“I didn’t mean it like that! I mean that they all care about you and we didn’t think about what we were doing! Dave, if I could go back in time none of this would’ve ever happened, but I can’t.” He sighed. “Do you know how fucking exhausted you look? All the time?”

“What?” David searched his face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“We thought it was selfish to keep you. You don’t need more stress, sweetheart. Some of the fellas were upset about you selling less but that’s only ’cause it means they won’t see you as much. We were irrationally angry but I’ll tell you, I’ve never seen…Dave, everyone’s been moping around for days. We all feel so guilty.

“And for what it’s worth, Race and Crutchie told us we were being idiots and if your brother was there he would’ve too. Please, baby. Please don’t leave me.” It sounded like Jack was about to cry and his eyes were glossy. “I’ll do anything. You want me to beg on my knees? I swear to God I will. I’ll do absolutely anything for you to take me back. I promise that I’ll never hurt you like this again. I love you more than anything and even if you don’t want to be with me no more I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you.” 

David stared into his eyes for a moment as the tears started to fall. He had never seen Jack like this. Sure, he had seen him open up a few times, but never with tears, never so desperate. He would take him back, that wasn’t even a question. The question was whether or not he believed that the newsies really regretted it or just felt bad.

He also thought of what other David had said. Jack had fast so many hardships in his life and it was understandable that he had felt betrayed, no matter how unfair it was to David.

Jack, maybe misinterpreting his silence, got off of the couch and went to his knees, hands clasped. 

“Jack!”

“Please, baby, please. I love you so much. I-”

“Jack, get up!” David pulled him to his feet and then back to the couch. “Of course I’ll take you back, you didn’t need to do that.” Jack let out a sob and David pulled him into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry I confused you.”

“No! You have nothing to be sorry about. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll never stop loving you, I promise.”

“For sure?”

“For sure.”

And just like that, David went back to being Davey.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey gets a surprise and someone else gets what’s coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for antisemitic terms/slurs.

It was harder than it should have been to let go of Jack’s hand that night and go home. Jack had offered (asked, really) to walk him but Davey had needed the time to think.

Sunday was fine too and he woke up on Monday feeling cautiously optimistic. Sure, he still had some hesitations about the other newsies and what they truly thought of him but he had Jack back, he could talk to Sarah, and his ima seemed less mad at him that morning. Maybe his aba had talked to her. Either way, it felt like nothing could ruin his day. 

And then, of course, William was waiting for him by the front gate. 

“Jacobs! Good morning! My father sends his regards.”

“Does he?” David said, entering through the gates. “That’s nice of him. I’ll have to say hi at work today.” That obviously hadn’t been the reaction he was expecting because William was fuming. It was definitely dangerous to mess with him like that but David felt a certain degree of safety. Maybe William was worried that if he did something to David his father would get in trouble at work.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. How is work, by the way? Must be hard having to work two jobs. Say, do you think-”

“Mr. Jacobs!” William was cut off by Mr. Parker, who was making his way over to the group of boys. “Ah, good morning boys. Mr. Jacobs, why don’t you come with me?”

“Uh, sure, yeah.”

“Have a nice time,  _ Mr. Jacobs,”  _ William whispered obnoxiously. 

“Sir?” David said while they walked. “Am I in trouble?”

“Far from it. We’re just going to have a chat with some members of faculty in my office.”

“Members of faculty? What members of faculty?”

“Relax, David. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Due respect, Mr. Parker, but I’ve come to find that doing something wrong and getting in trouble have rarely correlated in my life.”

Mr. Parker chuckled but didn’t otherwise respond. He didn’t speak again before they entered his office. Unfortunately for David, the members of faculty weren’t any of the few other teachers who he didn’t hate and who didn’t hate him. Instead it was the headmaster, assistant headmaster, and a board member that David couldn’t recall the name of. They stood. 

“Mr. Jacobs, good to see you.”

“You as well, sir,” he said to the assistant headmaster, Mr. Taylor (who had never seemed very happy to see him before) as the headmaster, Mr. Rose, shook his hand. 

“So this is him then?” the board member asked Mr. Parker.

“This is him.” His teacher clapped him on the shoulder. “Why don’t we all have a seat?” 

“David,” said Mr. Rose, “do you know why you’re here?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, you’ve been quite the topic of discussion this last week. Mr. Parker speaks highly of you.”

“That’s very kind of him, sir.”

“Indeed. Mr. Parker? Would you like to explain?” 

“Sure. David, we’ve been discussing your situation and it’s obvious that something needs to happen.” David immediately felt the panic rise from his stomach to his chest to his throat. He couldn’t speak. “There’s no need to be nervous,” he was told. Was he being that obvious?

“Despite what you students may think, Mr. Jacobs, we aren’t entirely oblivious,” said Mr. Taylor. “We know what goes on in our school.”

“Wh- sir, I don’t think-” David was silenced with a raised hand.

“You’ve been going to class with black eyes since long before your little sabbatical. No one here is so ignorant as to think it has anything to do with that.”

“You’re an excellent student, Mr. Jacobs,” said the board member, “and your efforts don’t go unnoticed. The board has been in discussion with Mr. Parker.”

“About me, sir?” They all chuckled at him. 

“Yes, about you, David. Why don’t you tell us about your daily routine?” Mr. Parker asked. David looked at him in shock. What was he even asking? Was his goal to embarrass David as much as possible? He knew better than anyone else here what David’s life was like. 

“My routine?”

“Yes. What you do from when you get up to when you go to bed.”

_ “I know what a routine is,”  _ David wanted to say. 

“You don’t have to be specific,” the headmaster clarified, “just give us an overview.” 

“I- uh. I bring my siblings to school and then I come here. After classes I go to work and then I go home.”

“What time do you usually go home?” 

“Around eleven? I’m sorry, I don’t mean any disrespect but I really don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“Right now we’re talking about your routine. When do you wake up?” 

“It depends…I guess around five.”

“Why so early?”

“There are things to be done, sir.”

“Like what?” 

David tried not to clench his jaw. He didn’t understand why any of this was relevant or how it was their business. 

“Going outside for water-”

“There’s no indoor water?”

“No, sir,” he said tightly, “there isn’t. There’s a pump outside and when it’s not too cold, that works. My sister and I have patchwork to do if we don’t get it done the night before. We have to get the laundry off the clothes lines too. Some days we run to the market. It- it doesn’t really matter.”

“We asked if-” the board member started to protest but Mr. Parker shook his head.

“How many times a day do you eat?” 

David tensed even more. This was humiliating. He was sure there was a point because otherwise Mr. Parker would never put him through this but it was hard not to yell or run out of the room.

“It depends on the day.”

“On average then.”

“Usually twice. If it’s a good day, three times.”

“What constitutes a good day?”

“Uh, the headline, usually. My brother is a newsboy, so…”

“All right. Well, I’ve heard enough,” the board member said. “Mr. Parker, the board will grant and approve your petition. If you’d excuse me, I have another meeting elsewhere.” He left and so did the other two administrators.

“What just happened?”

“David-”

“Sir, please tell me there was a reason for that because it was humiliating.”

“It wasn’t my intention to humiliate you,” he replied, getting up and going to his desk. David followed and sat in front of it.

“So what was your intention?”

Mr. Parker sighed and ran a hand through his hair. In that moment, David thought he looked much older than he ever had before.

“I’ve been speaking to the board and...well, we’ve come to the conclusion - a conclusion we should have come to a long time ago, mind you - that we’ve failed you.”

“What?” David wasn’t even sure what that meant. 

“It’s our responsibility to protect our students. Can you recall one week in the last year - hell, five years - that you haven’t been physically harmed by a classmate?”

David opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He couldn't, in fact, recall any.

“I- that’s got nothing to do with you or the board, sir. You weren’t the ones doing it.”   
“No, but we let it happen.”

“But-”

“Their parents giving us money is not an excuse to let them beat up on other kids, David, and if it were happening to anyone else but you, you’d say the same thing.” David didn’t respond and Mr. Parker sighed again. “It doesn’t make sense for you to stay at St. George’s.”   
He was shocked. Was he actually being kicked out of school? For being beat up? David felt like he was going to vomit. This wasn’t fair! He worked so hard all the time and now this? After almost seven years he was going to be kicked out six months before graduation? No. That was unacceptable.

“Mr. Parker, you can’t do this, sir, it isn’t fair. I’ve been here for almost seven years! I’m close to graduating! It- it isn’t right! You can’t just toss me to the curb because William and pals decide to kick the shit out of me all the time!” He had never cursed in front of a teacher before but he didn’t care. He was owed this. He was going to defend himself. “I’ve more than earned my place here! You have to let me stay!”

“David-”

“This is cruel. After all this time, all this work, you’re telling me it’s for nothing? That I’ve dealt with this every day for nothing? I’ve been beaten, spat on, called names, screamed at by teachers and students alike, forced to do others’ work, humiliated at every turn, gone to church every day despite being obviously unwelcome, spent countless hours squinting in the dark trying to fix the only uniform I have because it’s tearing at the seams! I’ve been ostracized, cursed at, condescended to, dehumanized, and countless other things and for what? To be thrown out right before it’s all over!”

“David! Sit down!” He hadn’t even realized he had stood up. “We aren’t kicking you out. That was never on the table, okay?” David nodded and sat. He felt relieved but skeptical. “Good. Now listen to what I have to tell you before you start yelling again.

“We’re a school. Our job is to educate students and prepare them for the future. When the rest of your class graduates they’ll be getting jobs or going to college - that’s their future. You already have yours. Regardless of how long you choose to stay in your position at  _ The World, _ it’s your future for now. It doesn’t make sense to keep you here because it will hurt you, not help you.

“Today’s meeting was because the board wanted confirmation that what I told them was true: that your already busy life is only complicated by coming to school every day and that you’re ready to move on.”

David sat in shock again, but this time it was different.

“I- I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Mr. Parker smiled.

“You’ve passed every class you’ve ever taken with flying colors and done more work for them than anybody else. You led a strike this summer and then landed a job with the man the strike was against. That should count for an extracurricular or two,” he said humorously. “David, you’ve more than met the requirements to earn a degree from St. George’s.”

“I...what?”

“Congratulations, Mr. Jacobs. You’re officially a St. George’s alumnus.”

“W-what?” He was overwhelmed and confused.

“You graduated, David,” Mr. Parker said softly. “You’re done.” 

Davey had never run faster in his life. Not even when he was being chased by boys at school or the police. His ribs still hurt a little bit but he barely noticed. He somehow avoided knocking any pedestrians over and completely ignored the angry calls from the vendors he passed by. He only slowed down when he reached his old selling spot and saw Jack hawking papers.

“Jack!” he yelled. “Jack!” Jack turned around and Davey used the momentum he still had to run and jump into his arms, making him drop the paper he was holding.

“Dave! What the hell is going on? What are you doing here?” He put Davey down.

“I’m done!” Davey practically screamed.

“That’s...great? Done with what?”

“School!”   
“It’s not even eight thirty.”

Davey shook his head. He wanted to explain but he was so happy that he could hardly get any words out. 

“No, not for the day! For good.”

“What?”

So he told Jack all about the meeting and what Mr. Parker told him. It occurred to Davey that maybe he should have stopped home to tell his mother first but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I’m done, Jacky,” he finished with. Jack smiled wide and picked him up again, swinging him around. It didn’t matter that they were in public because no one would think twice about two friends just being affectionate.

“Dave, sweetheart, that’s amazing,” he said quietly. “I’m so proud of you! Come on, we gotta go celebrate.”   
“What? No, you have to sell papers.”

“It’s not the end of the-” Davey put a finger on Jack’s lips to shut him up.

“Stop talking. Let me sell with you.”   
“What?”

“That’s how I want to celebrate. Let me hawk papes with you, Jack. Let me be a newsie again.”

“You never weren’t.”

Davey smiled and got to work.

The next morning, Davey had to go pick up his diploma from school and Jack came with him.

“You didn’t have to come, Jack. You should be selling.”

“And what, miss my fella graduating? I don’t think so,” he said and Davey rolled his eyes.

“I already graduated and this isn’t a graduation.”

“Who cares? I want to be with you, even if I ain't allowed inside.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. They’re very particular. If they don’t know you, you’re not going in.”

“That’s all right. I’ll be waiting at the gate for you. Oh, and Katherine’s going to meet us at her lunch break and we’re going for ice cream.”

“Jack! That’s too much.”

“What? She’s the one who planned it and have you said no to her lately? It’s scary.”

“Fine. You’re really sweet sometimes, you know that?”

“Don’t let anybody hear you say that.”

Once he picked up his diploma and came back outside, Davey listened to Jack tell him about the stupid thing some of the boys did the previous night. If he hadn’t been laughing he would have heard sooner, but he did eventually. 

There were cries coming from the alleyway between two of the school buildings. He shushed Jack and listened for a second before the two of them ran in that direction. Unsurprisingly, it was William and his goons. The victim, however, was new. 

“Edmund?” Everybody turned to him and Jack. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Ah, well, if it isn’t the heeb and his bodyguard.”

Edmund was crying. A quick once I’ve revealed that they hadn’t hurt him and it was likely they had just been trying to scare him. 

“Leave him alone, William, he’s just a kid.”

“But he’s your  _ friend.  _ Isn’t that right, Edmund?” He put his hands on the boy's shoulders from behind and Edmund whimpered. 

“Take your hands off him.”

“Or what?” Anthony spat. “What’re you gonna do?” 

“We aren’t afraid of your little newsboy friend.”

“You always  _ were _ stupid, Henry, so I don’t say I’m surprised.”

“Hey!”

“Are you going to let him go or are we going to have a problem?”

“Hey, no problem here, no problem here. Right, Edmund?” Edmund nodded shakily. “See, Jacobs? Why don’t you go back to class and we’ll deal with you later?” 

Davey smiled. He handed his diploma to Jack and walked forward. 

“I guess you haven’t heard the news yet. I’m not in classes anymore. See that folder in Jack’s hand? That’s my diploma. I graduated.”

“You…what?” William looked perturbed and Davey felt a little giddy, which he knew was probably unhealthy but he didn’t care. He took Edmund away from William and sent him to stand behind Jack. 

“Yeah. I’m not a St. George’s student anymore. And you know what that means?”

“What?” 

“It means I can do this.” He swung as hard as he could and punched William in the jaw. Immediately, Anthony came at him while the other made sure their leader was okay. He tried to punch Anthony too but his fist was caught and brought up behind his back. 

He heard Jack say, “hold this, kid.” There was a crack and suddenly he was free and Anthony was on the ground.

Davey had never been in a fight before (except for that one time with the police and the Delanceys) but he had to say, he didn’t see the appeal. By the end of it, his ribs hurt like hell and he was definitely forming a black eye. He had landed on his back at least twice and that didn’t feel so good either. 

On the other hand, all six of the other boys looked about the same and Jack and Davey had been up against three to one odds. Jack himself had a bloody lip and bruised knuckles but otherwise looked fine. He obviously had a lot more experience than any of the rest of them. 

They had won, that much was clear. Davey saw Jack bend down and take the little pad and pencil that were in Henry’s front pocket. 

“Mind if I borrow this? Thanks.” 

“So,” Davey began, “afraid of the newsboy now?”

“Fuck you, you-” And then William called Davey something worse than usual. It was a word that had his ima had heard him say it, he would have had his mouth washed out. 

Davey wanted more than anything to punch him again and he knew Jack did too but that wasn’t the answer and he knew it. William spat from his place on the ground.

“You know, the alumni association is taken very seriously here.”

“What’s your point?”

“Nothing! I’m just saying…I bet the assistant headmaster would be upset to hear you got into a fight with an alumnus. Probably wouldn’t go over well for you.” He heard Jack chuckle behind him. “But I’ll do you a favor and keep it between us just so long as you leave Edmund alone.”

“You’re not going to be around to save him all the time, yid.” 

“That’s true,” he conceded. 

“Hey, Dave!” Jack called. “How’s this?” He stepped forward and handed Davey the notepad. 

“That’s great, Jack! Looks just like them. See William?” He showed the drawing to him. It was a sketch of two faces: William’s and Edmund’s. William finally stood up, followed by most of the other boys. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to show?”

“This time tomorrow every newsie in Manhattan is gonna know what you look like and what Edmund looks like. Anything happens to him, they’re coming for you.” He handed Jack the pad before any of them could snatch it. They turned and started to leave. 

“Fuck you, Jacobs! You’re never going to make anything of yourself, you worthless fucking yid!” Davey ignored him. He was done giving them the satisfaction. 

“Hey, Dave, I heard a new joke recently, want to hear it?” Jack asked.

Davey gave him a confused look but said, “Sure.”

“A Jew, an Irishman, and a little kid walk into an alley.”

Davey chuckled. 

“Oh, yeah? And what happens?”

“They win a fight against six daddy’s boys who don’t know anything about the real world.” 

“What’s the punchline?”

“They are, Dave. Come on, kid, let’s get you back to class.”

After they dropped Edmund off with Mr. Parker (Davey figured he was the safest bet to make sure Edmund felt better) they headed for the lodging house. Jack had to take most of his weight but they were both beaming.

They wasted time on the roof and were too distracted to notice the sound of the others returning from selling the morning edition. It had apparently been a fantastic headline. David pulled away from Jack’s lips and Jack whined. 

“Do you hear something?”

“It’s just the guys coming back. Can we go back to the kissing please? I like that better.” 

“Oh. I…okay.” 

Jack must have guessed what he was thinking because he brushed a lock out of Davey’s eyes and softly kissed the side of his mouth.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, doll. I told you, they all love you and feel guilty, okay?” Davey nodded. “I know you don’t believe me but I promise. Do you want to go down there? Get it over with?” 

Davey sighed but nodded. Jack helped him up and he reluctantly climbed down the ladder. The first floor went from irritatingly loud to dead silent the second Jack and Davey entered the room. Davey wasn’t sure how he should take that. 

“What the hell happened to you two?” Finch asked, surprising him. 

“Oh- uh, we got into a fight.” Everyone looked shocked.

“Not with each other!” Jack clarified. “With some assholes from his school.”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments but then Crutchie cleared his throat. 

“None of these idiots are brave enough to start so I will. Davey, we’re sorry about everything.” 

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, Mouth.”

“Sorry.”

“Our bad.”

There was a general murmur of agreement around the room. 

“We shouldn’t have forced you out of the union,” Ike said.

“We were just being stupid and didn’t know what we were supposed to do,” Mush added. Others nodded.

“It’s…it’s okay, fellas. I’m more upset that you thought I wouldn’t stand up for you at work than anything else.”

“That wasn’t it. We knew you would but didn’t want you to have to,” Finch told him. “We…it was just stupid. None of us know what it’s like for you except you. If you say you can do it and it’s not biggie then we should’ve listened.”

“Yeah, but I understand why you didn’t. Are you still mad that I took the job?”

“No!” they rushed to yell.

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Uh, okay. Good.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked. “I’m not really sure where this leaves us.” 

“Dave,” Jack said, looking at him with earnest eyes, “come back, would ya? We need you.”

“In the union?”

“As vice president, dumbass.” He looked at Race. “I can’t negotiate like you can and the Bronx hates me.”

“Why does-”

“Long story. Point is, most unions have people with different jobs, so why can’t ours? You still work for  _ The World _ and you’re still a newsboy.”

Davey looked around the room at the faces of his friends, pretty much all of whom seemed to agree. Jamie was there but he kept silent (probably under threat). He smiled despite himself. 

“Thanks, fellas.” He tried not to sound too verklempt. “That’s, uh…that’s really nice of you.”

“It was our mistake in the first place,” Albert said.

“All right, enough of this,” Jack ordered, clearly uncomfortable with all the emotionality. “I got a drawing you need to see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the last chapter. If you would, please read the note at the end once you finish.

“David! What happened?” 

David woke up to his mother looking over him from her spot on the edge of the bed. He heard his father groan, having also been woken up by her concerned exclamation. 

“Nothing. Give me a minute, please, Ima,” he said, still groggy. Everything hurt. He felt like if he were to move at all, his body might shatter like glass. 

“What happened, David?” she insisted. 

“It was a misunderstanding.” 

Sarah scoffed, apparently also awake.

“Some misunderstanding,” she muttered.

“Mayer! Wake up!”

“Ima, you don’t have to wake him, I’m fine.”

“What? Esther, what time is it?” he asked sleepily. Sarah looked out the window and groaned at what she saw. 

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care! David, what happened?”

“I’m  _ fine, _ Ima,” he promised. “You can all go back to sleep.” 

“No!” His mother stood up, carefully stepping over David where he lay on his pad on the floor. He heard the sound of a match being struck and the room was illuminated. “Mayer, get up and help him sit up.”

“Ima, I can sit up by myself,” he said, moving to prove it. He almost collapsed back onto his pillow but he did it before his father could get to him. 

His mother bent down next to him and carefully caressed his right cheek, making him hiss when her thumb accidentally came in contact with his black eye.

“Oh, boychik. Who did this to you?”

“Just some men on my way home,” he lied. Sarah glared at him but said nothing.

“See? What did I say? You shouldn’t be walking home so late at night.”

“It wasn’t late, Ima, it was before work.”

“And that man let you stay instead of sending you home to your mother?” she asked furiously. She removed her hand from his face and made angry, white-knuckled fists. 

“He wanted to send me home,” he assured her, despite it not being entirely true, “but I insisted on staying.”

“I’ll go get some water,” Sarah offered.

“I don’t need it; Jack cleaned me up.”

“Jack was there?”

“The lodging house was closer than home so I went there,” he hedged. It wasn’t entirely untrue. 

“Is anything else hurt, David?” His aba asked. There was really no use in lying. He would sugarcoat it, sure, but they would notice if he said he was otherwise fine.

“My ribs are a little bruised but I’m really okay. You all need some sleep and I’m fine. Please go back to bed.” 

“No. You take the bed, boychik.”

“No, thank you, Ima; I’m comfortable down here.” David could tell how much it was killing Sarah not to contradict him but he appreciated that she remained silent. 

“Up you get, żabko,” Aba teased, using the nickname David sometimes used for Les.

“Aba-”

“I’ll help you.”

“Les,” Ima said, shaking her son gently, who had somehow remained asleep, awake. “Get up, boychik.”

“Ima, no, don’t wake him. He’s tired.”

“Les,” she called again, ignoring David. “Les, wake up.”

“Huh? What’s happening?”

“You’ve got to move, tygrysek; your brother needs the bed.”

“I do  _ not  _ need the bed, Ima. Les, stay there. Everybody just go back to sleep, please. I’m comfortable and I don’t want to move.” 

In reality, the thought of sleeping in the bed was incredibly tempting to David. On the rare occasion he had the time to take a nap, he used the bed if it was available. It wasn’t small, but it was really only big enough for three adults (Les squeezed in there). 

The twins would never dream of letting their parents sleep on the floor. Even if they would, Esther and Mayer were older and would be in a lot more pain than either of them. Sarah slept in the bed upon David’s insistence. She used to try to get David to take her spot but he refused over and over again. Whenever she tried, he would stay on the floor next to her and it was pointless for both of them to be down there, so she eventually gave up.

David would never say anything because it would only add to his parents’ already insurmountable feelings of guilt, but he just wanted to sleep in the bed sometimes. Christ, that was all he wanted. And now, with the opportunity to do so (and not only that but to have it to himself) all he could do was refuse. He refused to displace his whole family just because he got a little roughed up. He was fine.

“You’ll be more comfortable on the bed.”

“Aba-”

“What? What’s wrong with David?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, Les. Go back to sleep.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes and picked Les up off of the bed. He snuggled into her arms despite how big he was.

“Come on,” Mayer said, trying to help him up. 

“Where will all of you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about that right now, okay?” His aba got him to his feet and then placed him gently on the bed. David groaned happily, unable to help himself. He heard his father chuckle sadly. “Better?”

“Mm. I was fine before, Aba.”

“Sure.” He slipped David’s shoes off of his feet (had he fallen asleep with those on?). Both of his parents slowly made him feel more comfortable by helping him out of his day clothes and into his sleep shirt. His eyes were closed most of the time, relaxed and warm as he was feeling. 

It felt so nice to be cared for like that. In just a few short hours, of course, he would be up and going again but for now his mother was running her hand through his hair and he was lying on a real mattress.

“Sleep, mój skarbie,” she whispered. 

Tears sprang to his eyes. Why was he crying so much? It was probably just the exhaustion. He breathed, shaky and teary. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Sarah told him. “Just sleep, neshama.”

He nodded.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll sleep.”

He heard most of his family walk away. David lay awake for a few more minutes, reveling in the mattress and multiple pillows. He felt like he was floating on a cloud. It was a ratty old bed but still perfect and he briefly found himself wondering what the bed of someone like Katherine or Darcy or Bill must be like. He returned to earth. 

His back felt better than it had in a long time, and it occurred to him that he hadn’t really noticed the pain in his back in years, used to it as he was. Was it selfish to envision himself in the future with a bed all for himself? Or maybe-

“Boychik,” came his father’s voice from somewhere near him, “I can practically hear you thinking.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m trying to sleep, I promise.” 

“Oh, David, I know.” He wiped tears from David’s face. “You’re over-exhausted and sometimes it’s hard to fall asleep when you’re like that. Just try and rest, okay?” 

He felt the bed shift as his father stood up. In a moment of impulse, David reached out and grabbed his wrist. 

“Stay with me until I fall asleep? Please, Aba?” He opened his eyes to see his reaction. His father smiled at him softly, eyes full of affection.

“Always.” 

He fell asleep with his father holding his hand and he was temporarily transported back to his and Sarah’s bed in their house in Poland.

Waking up was a weird experience. First, because there was light coming in through the window and second, he was comfortable. Holy shit, was he comfortable. It took David a minute to remember what had happened in the middle of the night but when he did he groaned, annoyed by the prospect of the interrogation that was sure to come. Unfortunately, his groan alerted his mother to the fact that he was awake.

“David? Are you awake?”

“Yes, Ima,” he replied, his eyes and turning his head to where she was standing in the doorway, “I’m awake.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” he lied. In reality, not even the comfort of a (relatively) soft bed all to himself and sleeping in made him feel much better. He was always more sore the morning after he got hurt than he was immediately following the incident. His mother looked at him skeptically but said nothing about it. Instead, she came and sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through his hair just as she had a few hours before. David sighed happily.

She sat with him while he recited the morning prayers and then smiled at him when he was done. She sighed softly.

“David? You know I love you, yes?”

“What? Ima, of course I know that. I love you too.”

“Good.” Her eyes were watery. “I’m glad you know that because I’ve done a poor job of showing it lately.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have,” she said emphatically while nodding. “I was upset about what you were doing to yourself when I should have been trying to ease the burden as much as possible. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I wasn’t doing anything to myself and I know it upset you when I took the job and-”

“It did,” she admitted, “but I’m your mother and my job is to always support you and take care of you and I haven’t done that enough lately.”

“You have, Ima, I swear.” 

“Just let me apologize, yes?” He nodded. “Thank you.” She leant down and kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” David’s heart swelled. It was such a relief to hear she supported him. He hadn’t realized how much of a burden it had been until she lifted it. 

“Are you up for a visitor?”

“Visitor? Who’s visiting? Ima, is someone here?” 

“Jack.”

“What?  _ Jack’s  _ here? Why?” he asked with concern. 

“He came to check on you this morning but he offered to help with some chores until you woke up. He’s outside getting water.”

“No, Ima, he should be selling. I’ll go get the water.” He tried to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed but his mother gently laid him back down.

“Nonsense,” she said, punctuated with another forehead kiss. “I promise I haven’t put him to too much work, boychik. He insisted on helping so he peeled potatoes and now he’s doing this. Mostly we chatted.”

“Ima, he needs to sell. What chores need to be done? I’ll do them. I’m sorry I slept so long.”

“David, I don’t want you doing chores right now. The point was for you to sleep in and relax.”

David shook his head.

“No, Ima, I have things to do,” he told her, his voice still quiet and even.

“You don’t have anything that needs doing right now; stay in bed. Would you like something to eat?”

“No, thank you. I’m not hungry.”

“Well, you have to eat at some point before you go to work.”

“Yes, Ima.” 

The door opened and Jack entered. 

“Here, Mrs. Jacobs, I have- David! You’re awake!” It was always bizarre to hear Jack call him by his real name, but all of his friends knew to do so around his parents. He had a hard time believing that they would be happy about his new, incredibly American nickname.

“Jack, what are you doing here? You should be selling.” 

“I’m fine. I have enough for a bed tonight and I’ll sell the evening edition. How are you feeling?” 

“He says he’s fine, but don’t believe him for a second, Jack.” 

“Never, Mrs. Jacobs. Where do you want this?” 

David watched as his mother and his…boyfriend? Best friend? Lover?…his…Jack spoke and moved around. He had to admit to himself that it was nice to see this domestic scene. He could pretend for a moment that he lived in a world where he could marry Jack and they would all be one family. 

Jack came to sit on the bed once he was done.

“How are you doing? For real.”

“I’m really okay. You didn’t have to stay, Jack.”

“I wanted to. Are you upset that I did?” It had the tone of a joke but David knew that Jack was probably feeling legitimately insecure about it. He gave him a small smile. 

“Never.”

“Boys? I’m going to deliver some of this clothing.” She picked up a basket. “Jack, dear? Would you be able to stay and mind David?”

“I don’t need minding, Ima.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” She came over and gave them each a kiss on the forehead before leaving. “Lock the door behind me, please.”

The second the door was closed, Jack connected their lips in a tender kiss. Davey pulled away. 

“Lock the door first, Jacky,” he reminded him. Once it was locked, Davey was far more willing to be kissed. He whined when Jack broke it. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because you’re injured and your black eye ain’t gonna be helped by me all over your face.”

“So don’t kiss my eye, then, weirdo. And we kissed yesterday.”

“Still…makes me nervous. Can I lie down?”

Davey nodded. 

“Please. Just take your shoes off first.” 

Jack lay down on his side, supporting himself with an elbow and resting his head on his hand. He gently kissed Davey‘s temple. 

“How're you doing, sweetheart? I don’t just mean physically.”

“Tired.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. But it was nice to sleep in, yeah?” 

“Yeah. And I’d live in this bed if I could,” he joked. 

“Can I get you anything?”

“What? Like what?”

“Don’t know. Water? Food?”

“No, I’m all right. Thanks though.”

“Of course. Why don’t you take a nap?” 

“I just woke up, Jacky.” He reached up and brushed a stray hair out of Jack’s face. 

“But you’re exhausted.”

David scoffed.

“I’m always exhausted.”

“That’s my point.”

“What, and you’re not? Not a single newsie is ever not exhausted. A couple of weeks ago, I’m pretty sure I saw Albert fall asleep  _ while _ he was shouting out a headline.” Jack chuckled. “Why don’t  _ you  _ take a nap?”

“What?”

“I’m serious. When was the last time you got to sleep during the day?”

“Never.”

“That’s my point.”

“I appreciate the offer but I want to spend time with you.” 

Davey pulled Jack down gently to brush their lips together. 

“You got to see me sleep, so it’s only fair that I get to see you sleep.” Jack rolled his eyes and kissed him yet again. “Come on, we’ve never gotten to sleep together - don’t be immature, you know what I mean.”

“I’ll sleep if you sleep.”

“But we have to let Ima in when she gets back.”

“I’m a light sleeper; I’ll hear her knock.”

“What if she just uses the key?”

“Then she’ll think we just fell asleep, which would be true. Come on, Dave, let me hold you. I’ll be careful of your ribs.”

Davey gave in. If it meant Jack getting some rest then he would try to too. He nodded and got a huge smile in return. 

“I love you,” Jack said. 

“I love you too.”

Davey felt a solid yet gentle arm wrap around his waist and another slip beneath his shoulder blades in a way that was surprisingly comfortable. Jack stroked his arm and Davey practically purred. This time, he fell asleep right away.

“So are you going to tell Joe today?” Jack asked as they made their way to The World building. Davey nodded. 

“I probably should. I got two and a half days of nothing to do in the morning, it’s time to fess up.”

“Maybe now you’ll have time to sell the evening edition.”

“Probably not. Just because I’m at work earlier doesn’t mean he’s not going to stay in the office until late at night. But maybe I’ll get a salary boost. I’ll probably be able to sell on Sundays though.” 

“Oh yeah? I’m looking forward to that.” Jack waggled his eyebrows. 

“Actually sell, Jack, not spend all day on the roof kissing you.” 

Jack rolled his eyes as they approached the building. 

“I’ll see you tonight, yeah? You’re sure you can get out of here in time?”

“Yeah,” Davey promised and turned around. 

“Wait! I…ikh hab dik leb? Is that how you say it?” 

Davey couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I’m sorry, Jacky, I appreciate the effort. English is more than fine.”

“Okay.” Jack stepped forward and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too. If you really want to learn some Yiddish, I’ll help you, all right?”

“Is Polish easier? I just want to be able to talk to your folks more.”

“That’s sweet but I think they appreciate the opportunity to practice their English with someone who doesn’t judge them.” Jack shifted uncomfortably. “What?”

“I also want to speak to you in your first languages, all right?” He scratched the back of his head. “I figured…never mind, it was stupid.”

“I’m sorry I laughed,” he said. “It’s not stupid, it’s incredibly sweet and if we weren’t in public right now I’d kiss you. I’ll teach you some conversational stuff, how about that? And if you want to learn more then that’s more than okay but there’s no pressure.”

“Okay. I just…I don’t think you know how much I care about you.”

“I do.”

Jack shook his head with a small, sad smile. 

“You don’t. You always think people care about you less than they do. So many people love you, Dave. We’re all here for you, yeah?” 

Davey nodded, feeling a little verklempt.

“Yeah. I should…” He gestured vaguely behind him. Jack nodded. 

“I’ll see you tonight. Tell Joe I say hi.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Afternoon, kid,” Walter said as he got in the elevator. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Walter. How are you?”

“Not bad. Listen, since you’ve got experience and everything, would you mind coming and talking to some of the boys at some point?” 

“Uh…sure. Sorry, what boys?”

Walter chuckled. 

“Elevator operators, doormen, janitors and any sort of labor worker here.”

“Sorry, I’m still confused. Talk to them about what?”

“Unionizing, of course.” The doors opened. “Have a good one.” 

“What? Me? Walter, I-” The doors closed before he could finish his sentence. Walter had been smirking though so he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. He sighed and turned around. “Good afternoon, Hannah.”

“Good afternoon, sweetheart. How was school?” David smiled and set his bag down before going over to lean on her desk. She raised an eyebrow. “You look happy and it’s a little disconcerting. What’s going on?”

David told her all about what had happened. She came around the desk and pulled him into a hug. Then she smacked his arm playfully when he admitted it had been a few days.

“Don’t go telling that part to Mr. Pulitzer, okay?”

“Hadn’t planned on it. I’m going to see him now.” 

“Come in!” David heard when he knocked on the door. “Ah, Jacobs. How’re the ribs?” 

“Fine, sir. Do you have a minute?” 

“This can’t be good. Sit.”

“No,” David said, chuckling, “for once it’s good news. Mr. Parker, my history teacher convinced the school board to let me graduate early.”

“Really?” Pulitzer asked skeptically. “When?”

“Now. I’m down with classes, Mr. Pulitzer.”

“Well, congratulations. I’m assuming you wanted to discuss working full time?” 

“Yes, sir, if that’s all right with you.”

“It’s more than all right. So, does one fifty a day sound reasonable to you?” David choked on his saliva and started coughing. It lasted a concerningly long time and his eyes started watering.

“Sorry, sir, I-”

The door swung open. 

“Which one of you is dying?” Hannah asked. “No one? Okay.” She left again and David couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, sir. That sounds perfectly reasonable to me. Thank you, sir.”

“Good. If you’ll be here during the day on Friday I won’t need you Sunday. Now, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you.” He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a folder. “Here.” 

David opened it and saw the copy of his essay on the Philippines that he had given Katherine. It was marked up and the margins were filled with notes. “I made some suggestions, as you can see. Try to have it back to me sometime next week. You can go directly through me for this but in the future you’ll go to Mr. Sawyer.”

“What?”

“He’s one of the editors for the opinions section. You should know this by now.”

“No, sorry, I know who he is, I'm just confused,” David clarified. “Why did you do this?”

“Because it’s good and with a little sprucing up it could be published.”

“So…you want me to practice writing articles?”

“No,” Pulitzer said, sounding exasperated, “I want to publish it.” 

David looked between the paper and his boss, shocked. 

“Why?”

“Because,” he replied, “it’s well written and persuasive. I’d like to see pieces from you every now and again. You’ll still be my assistant, but in a year or two you could easily be a reporter.”

“But…I didn’t go to college.”

“Neither did my daughter. You have an odd habit of trying to talk me out of giving you jobs. You’ll be paid for each piece, if that’s your concern.”

“It’s not. I’m…I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s not a great quality for a reporter, so work on it. Tell me what you want to write about before you do and then Mr. Sawyer will look at it. I want to see something once a month. They might not always be published but that’s how it goes. I’m sure Katherine could tell you about it.”

“Sir, we disagree on this issue.”

“Yes, I know.”

“So why- I’m not reversing my opinion.”

“I like debate and healthy public discourse. This particular piece would be a side-by-side with a conflicting argument.”

“Uh…okay. Mr. Pulitzer…thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything yet. Do the corrections and we’ll see.”

“No, sir, I mean…” David cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I don’t want to be inappropriate but I feel like I should say this. Six weeks ago I was drowning and now I won’t have to worry about where my family’s next meal is coming from and I might be published in the paper. So…thank you.” He stood up to leave. “If there isn’t anything else.” 

“No,” Pulitzer said, his voice a little quiet and awkward, “that’s all. There’s some things on your desk.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So,” Hannah began as he closed the door behind him, “how’d it go? Am I going to be seeing more of you around here?”

David laughed and replied, “Yeah…yeah, I think so.”

“To Davey!”

Davey clinked his beer with the others’ and sat back. 

“Thanks, guys and thanks for being here. Especially you, Katherine, thanks for the beer.”

She smiled. 

“Of course. Anything for a fellow reporter.” They all cheered again and he rolled his eyes. 

“I told you, I’m not sure if it’s even going to be published.”

“Yes, it will. My father doesn’t do things he isn’t sure of. He wouldn’t have told you or marked up your paper if he didn’t intend on publishing it.”

“Thanks for giving it to him, by the way.”

“You say that sarcastically but it worked out, didn’t it?” 

Davey ignored her and took a swig. She and Sarah laughed and he gave them the finger. 

“Seriously, though. You’re my three best friends and there’s nobody else I’d rather celebrate my graduation with.”

“I’m your sister.”

“I’m pretty sure best friends kiss less than we do.”

“Fine,” he conceded with an eye roll, “Katherine’s my best friend and you two have no value to me.” 

“Boo!”

“As long as the feeling’s mutual.”

“Suck it, losers! I win!” 

“Hey, Dave?” He looked down at Jack’s head where it was resting in his lap and ran his free hand through the other boy’s hair. “I’m really proud of you,” he said earnestly. 

“Are you drunk already?” Davey joked. 

“No, I’m serious. I’m proud of you. We all are.” Davey looked at the girls and they nodded. “We’re proud of you. .איך האב דיך ליב”

“Hey! You pronounced it right!” 

“I’m a great tutor,” Sarah said. “And David? .איך האב דיך ליב”

“.איך האב דיך ליב” Katherine repeated. 

Davey smiled.

When he had first come to America, he was terrified. He hadn’t spoken the language, he had missed his grandparents, and he had no friends. He never would have guessed that less than a decade later he would be sitting on a roof with his sister, his best friend, and the man he could confidently say was the love of his life, celebrating his graduation from a prestigious secondary school. He never would have guessed that he would be working for Joseph Fucking Pulitzer or that he was about to be a published journalist. And he certainly would never have guessed that he would help lead and win a citywide strike against the most powerful men in New York. 

A citywide strike in the city that had terrified him when he first arrived. The tall buildings and the hundreds of different languages and the streets that housed more people than had lived in his entire village. He had wanted open fields and space to run around and fresh air. To some extent, he still wanted those things. But he had found a place here and as long as he was with the people he loved, he wouldn’t change that for the world.

He remembered his first glimpse of Lady Liberty very well. The sun had just started to peak over the horizon and she was surrounded by amber and gold light. Her torch gleamed in the sunlight and the reflection had made his eyes water. But more than he remembered that, he remembered his heavily pregnant mother weeping. He remembered his sister holding his hand tightly. He remembered his father leaning close and whispering softly to his children,  _ “change is the scariest part of life, but as long as we’re together, we’ll be okay.” _

__ David wasn’t naive. He didn’t think America was perfect - far from it. He didn’t think the American dream was as simple as pulling yourself up by your bootstraps. Plenty of people worked hard but it was about luck more than anything else. He didn’t think the streets were paved with metaphorical gold and he would never say they were. 

America had brought a lot of hardships and challenges for him and his family. He would never forget the nights he had held his little brother as he cried from hunger pains. He would always feel anger from deep within him and sadness from even deeper when he saw his mother’s and sister’s bleeding hands. He would never forgive the lawmakers and businessmen who let his father lose his job. He would always seeth when he thought about Jack’s childhood.

But there was no undoing the past and this is where he was. Davey looked around again. His sister was laughing at something Katherine had said, Katherine was practically on her back and wheezing, and Jack’s legs were kicked out in front of them. He moved his gaze to the head in his lap.

“What are you thinking about?” Jack asked. Davey exhaled and took the hand extended up towards him.

“I’m thinking about what’s next.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this. It means a lot to me that people would spend their time reading my work and I’m glad that many of you seemed to enjoy it. I had a wonderful time writing it.  
> This will NOT be the last story in this series. I’ve become far too attached to let it go. I have a plan for a multi-chapter sequel. I’ll also probably write some one shots for it. If there’s anything you want to see you can let me know on tumblr @JewishDavidJacobs or here if you don’t have one.  
> Again, thank you for reading.


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